


Unhinged

by moeagaru



Category: GOT7
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-13 05:56:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5697535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moeagaru/pseuds/moeagaru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>UNHINGED</p><p>"-And as I sat down at the long table in the refectory, the white color of the walls almost burning a permanent migraine onto my eyes,<br/>I stared at each one of these boys and realized that maybe, just maybe I wasn't the least sane person in the world. What the hell did I get myself into?-"</p><p>WARNINGS</p><p>Mature content<br/>Explicit language, graphic scenes, mention of alcohol and drug abuse, mention of suicide and depression, mention of mental disorders, description of episodes accompanying said mental disorders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part one

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of these boys's rights. I don't own the rights to the pictures that are used, nor does the story have anything to do with the boys IRL. This story was written completely for your entertainment and for the purpose of my fantasy and stress outlet. I'm not a doctor, nor do I strive to be or sound like one. I've done the research when writing this story so if you feel like I'm not doing enough to let the disorders mentioned in the above section shine through, feel free to submit me suggestions via message or leave me a comment telling me in depth what you'd like me to portray more. I've dealt with bipolarity myself and someone I'm close to has suffered from schizophrenia in the past, but other than that I have had no close observations to any of these disorders. Feel free to let me know what you think and help me make this story worth telling.

A/N : This first chapter will be slow, since it’s an introduction to the story. Things will start picking up afterwards.  
  
6.175 WORDS

 

* * *

> “Anxiety, worry, and stress are all a part of most people's life today. But simply experiencing anxiety or stress in and of itself does not mean you need to get professional help or you have an anxiety disorder. In fact, anxiety is a necessary warning signal of a dangerous or difficult situation. Without anxiety, we would have no way of anticipating difficulties ahead and preparing for them.” --- John M. Grohol, Psy.D.

* * *

**September**

I saw the raindrops crashing against the window and followed their path down as they connected with others. I couldn’t hear them, deafened my own blood flow pounding against my eardrums. I had been like this for a week, a never ending episode that had caused my parents to inform me of their decision. My parents loved me, I knew that very well – but I feared that they were also scared of what they couldn’t protect me from. Myself. It felt like an ice cold liquid was running up my spine and towards the back of my head, signaling that things were getting worse again.

My pills were in the back of the car, stuffed away in one of the bags that I’d hurriedly packed that same morning. My parents had told me many times that I shouldn’t feel like they were dumping me, but somehow that didn’t really sink in the way they wanted it to. I knew I needed help long before my parents did, and if it hadn’t been for the incident in high school, they probably wouldn’t have known. I wouldn’t have been homeschooled and I wouldn’t have had them watch my every move for the past 4 years. I’d always blamed myself for not being able to control my thoughts; nobody else was to blame, even though I know my mother blamed herself for “not doing enough”.

I could feel her gaze on me as she was sitting next to me in the backseat even before she reached out and took my clammy hand in hers. That’s when I realized I was shaking and I looked up at her apologetically, even more so when I saw her looking up at me with teary eyes. Of course it wasn’t her fault. It was all in my head and there was nothing she could’ve done to prevent this. I knew this was for the best. I no longer wanted to be a burden to my family, no longer wanted to see their looks of pity and sadness whenever I entered a room. My mother squeezed my hand softly in reassurance but I felt weak and couldn’t even muster enough courage nor the power to react. She sighed, her lip trembling as she looked away. I knew she was crying and I knew it was _my fault_.

The seatbelt that was strapped around my chest was growing too tight. My stomach was still upset, my pulse was racing and I couldn’t think straight. I hadn’t slept a wink the night before I left home. Knowing where I would be going the next day, I had been sitting upright in my bed all night, sprinting towards the bathroom every half hour to spend the ten minutes or so with my head hovering over the toilet. My body had gotten worse over the past few months and I remembered myself staring at my body in the bathroom mirror at 4.55AM, watching my hipbones and my ribcage protrude a little more than usual. Stress did nothing to improve my appetite, even though I used to consider myself a foodie. The thought of having changed so much in such short amount of time made me sick. I closed my eyes as I let my head fall back against the headrest of the car, praying to whoever would listen that I wouldn’t get sick again.

The car swerved a little and I opened my eyes as my dad took a right. It took a good minute for me to regain my vision – the lack of sleep was doing things to my body and it wasn’t helping me feel any more comfortable. I swallowed, feeling my stomach knot a little, and turned my head to watch the road pass us by. The scenery had changed quite a bit since we left the town I grew up in. It left me wondering how long we’d been on the road; two, maybe three hours? I licked along my chapped lips and stared at the open fields we were passing by. No, we definitely were not close to _any_ city.

We drove into a small town eventually, though there really wasn’t much to it. With the weather being this gloomy, the streets had an almost eerie look to them. My heart raced and I could feel my chest tighten even more as my dad made another turn and headed onto a long road. I could sense by my mother’s behavior that we were getting close to our destination. _My destination_. I swallowed once more, closing my eyes as my breath became shallow – I was either going to throw up or have a panic attack if I didn’t get any air soon.

I think my mother noticed because she tapped my father’s shoulder, who immediately glanced at me through the rear view mirror. He looked pale, as if he hadn’t been sleeping more than I had. I could feel myself pressing my back into my seat a little harder as I let out a shaky breath and my father quickly opened all four of the windows, giving me the air I needed. It took me a few minutes to get my mind back to somewhat stable, and once I did my mother turned to me once more.

“Are you feeling okay, darling?” she asked, “Do you need us to pull over and get your medication out?”

Shaking my head, I silently reassured the woman that I’d be fine for a while. I hadn’t spoken for three weeks now. My family was used to it. It was one of the first things I was diagnosed with around the age of seven. Selective mutism wasn’t uncommon, especially when it came to kids around that age. I remembered my parents laughing it off, saying I was just shy. I’d always hoped that was it. A disorder like that usually fades as a child grows up, but in my case it stayed and was soon accompanied by a few other diagnoses – much to my parents’ horror.

My heart was hammering against my ribcage by the time my father pulled up into the institute’s parking lot. It wasn’t what I had expected it to be. There was a gate that surrounded the property and I could faintly see a meadow that stretched across the back of the mansion that was supposed to be the institute itself. A smaller building – much more modern and sterile looking – was built next to the mansion. Seeing it reminded me of the countless hospitals I’d gone to for a second, third and fourth opinion on my diagnoses. A shiver ran down my spine as I wondered what exactly went on in there.

Both my mother and father helped me get my luggage out of the trunk and accompanied me to the gate. My father was the one to press the buzzer and I faintly registered a camera aiming our way as a voice spoke, inquiring as to whom was at the gate. My father informed the person of our arrival and my mother looked at me, trying to reassure me that everything was going to be okay. I found myself wondering when I’d see them again and followed them slowly as the gate opened; we were instructed to go in through the main entrance.

Doing as we were told, we entered the building and my eyes widened, looking around the main entrance hall that was smaller than I had expected. An office was placed in the far back of the room and my mother and father guided me to it, not noticing how I slowly started panicking again. I frowned, desperately trying to hide my face behind my chestnut hair as I tipped it down, letting my fringe fall over my eyes.

We were greeted by a gentle looking woman that smiled at us from behind the glass as soon as she saw us walk up to the office. Much to my surprise, she merely nodded politely at my parents and then immediately focused her full attention on me.

“Welcome to Saint Dymphna Institute – you must be Mark,” she said as she opened a partition in the glass and reached over to grab a clipboard that already had all kinds of documents stuck to it.

Her eyes turned to sweet crescents as she smiled and I looked up purely out of politeness. She must’ve noticed what an awful state I was in because she nodded curtly – mostly to herself, I think.

“Go and take a seat, Mark. We’ll get you settled after your parents and I have filled out the paper work,” she smiled sympathetically, her voice now softer than it was before.

My body moved almost as if it was on automatic pilot as I moved towards the few chairs that stood a few feet away from the office. I shakily let out another breath and kept my eyes fixed on the backpack in my lap; I wondered if it would be considered rude to take one of my tranquilizers right then and there. My attention was drawn to one of the doors that probably led deeper into the institute and I felt my lungs failing me as I noticed someone standing there, _watching_ me.

A scrawny, tall looking boy with platinum colored hair and a foreign looking face was staring me down as his lips formed a smirk; he seemed to be figuring something out. After a few moments, he calmly walked back to where he came from and left the door slightly ajar, making me feel as confused as could be. I was probably spaced out for quite some time because my mother was kneeling in front of me, then, calling my name. She held my cheeks with both hands and turned my head to face her.

“Darling, we have to say goodbye now—“ I could see her holding back tears that threatened to spill over onto her cheeks and I weakly reached up to cover her hands with mine, feeling like I was going to throw up if I didn’t get my medication soon. I tried to reassure her but failed miserably as my face just didn’t want to work with me. The smile I was trying to fake never appeared. I let both of my parents hug me and faintly remember waving at them as they made their way out of the building; leaving me and my luggage sitting there next to the office.

The nice looking woman appeared before me with a cup of water and a pill in her hand.

“Here, you look like you could use one of these,” she offered, and I gladly accepted whatever it was.

“This will help you calm down a bit,” she explained, “We’ll get you settled into your room and then we’ll set up a meeting with the doctor.”

I swallowed the pill down dry and mostly drank the water to calm my stomach, hoping I’d be able to keep it down. I frowned in confusion at the mention of a doctor, but the woman smiled once more.

“There’s no need to worry, Mark. We’re merely going to figure out if the pills you’re taking are the right ones. I’ll be taking the pills you’re currently taking once you’ve settled into your room. Once that’s done, you’ll be given new ones by our doctors. We’re going to do everything we can to get you comfortable so you can start your process here.”

Her words were a lot to take in. I just nodded, hoping I’d have the courage and the voice to ask whatever questions I had once I had settled. The woman took two of my bags and I carried the rest of them as she guided me through the door that the boy had left ajar. I kept my eyes glued to the female’s heels as she guided me through a few corridors, only to stop when she halted at one of the doors. Putting one of the bags down, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a set of keys, pursing her lips when she seemed to be looking for a particular one. I looked up and saw silver numbers painted on the door in front of us.

**93**

Easy enough to remember. I sighed in relief. If this was the room I was being assigned to, at least I wouldn’t have trouble finding my safe haven if needed. She led me into the room and I almost wanted to cry in relief when I saw that the room had a window. At least I’d have access to some fresh air. Other than the window, there was a desk, a chair, a single bed and what seemed like a very large wardrobe in the room. Nothing fancy, but definitely more than I’d expected. I hadn’t really expected a prison cell, but knowing my way of overthinking things, it was normal for me to freak out, especially since I’d be spending a lot of time away from everything I’d known and was comfortable with.

I set the bags I was carrying next to the desk and turned back towards the woman. That smile never left her lips as she sighed contently, setting the bags down as well.

“Alright, I’ll need you to give me all of the medication you’d normally take. The pill I gave you should keep you good to go for another four hours, so you’ll be fine until dinnertime. We’ll have prepared your new medication by then.”

Again, a lot to take in. I stood there for a good minute, staring at this insanely patient and ever smiling woman before I nodded and quickly searched for the bag that held my medication. I could feel my face redden as I handed over all of my meds, embarrassed as I noticed how many of them there truly were. Of course this woman had to say something that made it even worse.

“There’s no reason for you to be embarrassed, Mark. You’re not alone here. A lot of people in here have to deal with similar situations, so don’t feel like you’re in this all by yourself, okay?”

I felt myself nodding as I slowly sunk down onto the bed, my thoughts fuzzy. I faintly registered her saying something along the lines of “take your time to get settled” and watched her walk back out of the room; pulling the door closed behind her.

Suddenly I felt myself let out the longest breath, as if I’d been trapped under water for hours. I closed my eyes for a brief moment and nodded to myself as I made a mental note to go to bed early that night. Getting up and walking towards the window, I noticed how there were many safety measures taken to make sure you could only open the top part of the window. Behind the window were they had installed bars. For what reason, I didn't want to guess. I didn’t let it bother me too much and opened the window as far as I could, relaxing a little as I felt cool air seep into the room.

The following hours were spent in a haze. To this day, I still don’t know what kind of pills this woman had given me, but they sure as hell worked. I felt relaxed – more so than I had in the past few months. I even considered taking a nap, but once I eyed the door and realized I was given no key to lock it, I shook off that thought and just carried on filling the wardrobe with whatever clothes I had taken with me.

My mother had given me a new set of covers for the down comforter I was provided with and I almost melted as I held them to my face. They smelled of home and I wondered how long it would take until the smell would have faded completely. The thought made me slouch a little as I realized that I might not see my parents for quite some time. Maybe that was a good thing, considering that lately I had been nothing but a burden to them. I quickly made up the bed until I was completely satisfied and then finished it off by placing my Pikachu plushy beside my pillow. I looked around the room and decided to just hang up some of the pictures I’d taken with me. I figured that would be more than sufficient.

By the time I was done completely, I pulled out my phone and checked the time.

**5.44 PM**

My discovery of the current time was confirmed once I heard the surprising rumble of my stomach. Feeling relaxed, my body had started acting close to normal and was of course craving food, seeing as I hadn’t eaten and actually managed to keep it down in over two days. I worried my bottom lip and sighed before I slowly made my way over to the door. Opening it, I almost had a heart attack. A black-haired boy with an equally shocked face was staring right back at me, making me stumble back into the room and wince a little. The boy had his fist raised; probably intent on knocking before I’d made the decision to leave the room. I gulped a little, noticing how the boy relaxed and the shocked expression on his face made way for a nervous smile that made his eyes turn to crescents. Did everyone in here have pretty eye smiles? The boy lowered his hand and smiled sheepishly as I merely bowed politely.

“Hey,” he started, his voice trembling a bit. “I’m Jinyoung. You’re Mark, right? The supervisor told us someone new would be arriving today.” He went on, stuffing his hands down the pockets of his pants before he flicked his hair over to the side, “You haven’t eaten yet, have you? Dinner’s about to be served and we’re kind of forbidden to skip meals and not show up, so I thought I’d come and get you.”

I still hadn’t relaxed since our little encounter but I nodded anyway, looking around to see if I needed to take anything with me. I decided to leave my phone back in my room and leave everything as it was. I swallowed nervously, feeling the pill’s effects slowly starting to fade as it had been 3.5 hours since I’d taken it. Eyeing the door’s keyhole, I frowned a little, wondering if I should ask anything about locking it, but the brunette already beat me to it.

“We’re not allowed to lock our doors. The supervisors have to be able to enter our rooms at all times, in case any of us have an episode of whatever it is we’re dealing with. There’s an emergency button next to your bed, in case you missed it.”

My gaze slid over to my bed. I wasn’t sure how I missed it, but it was indeed there. Small, red and blinking slowly, a button was attached to the wall above the headboard. I nodded once more and then looked back at the boy. He seemed to be doing okay himself and I was left wondering why he was even in here. I caught him mouthing something to himself and then just followed him out of the room, closing the door behind me.

“The super told me you don’t talk much…” Jinyoung said, surprising me a little. I looked at him apologetically and gulped, yet no words were forming in my head, let alone on my tongue. Nevertheless, the boy smiled, his eyes on the doors as we walked through the hallway.

“It’s fine, you know,” he went on, and even though he’d paused for a bit, I could see his lips moving. Was he counting? I frowned a little as I looked down. There was a name for this, but I couldn’t remember – my brain was still far too fuzzy for me to be able to think straight.

“I didn’t talk much when I first got here, either. I’ve been getting a lot better, though. I’ve been here for four years now. I should be getting out of here by the end of next year.”

That statement made me look up at him, my eyes wide in astonishment. I only heard him chuckle softly, his lips moving silently as he led me to a large room. A few long tables were neatly arranged throughout the room and the smell of food filled my nostrils. I sighed in relief, knowing I’d be getting some food into my system soon, and followed Jinyoung cautiously.

I could feel several gazes burning holes into the back of my head and into my cheeks. People were staring at me and I felt my head tip down involuntarily, wanting not to be looked at and felt the liquid cold stress slithering its way up my spine once more. I quickly sat down at one of the tables and swallowed; not daring to look up. That’s when I felt a hand on my shoulder and I flinched before I heard Jinyoung’s voice once more.

“It’s okay, they won’t bite. We’re all here for a reason, Mark. You’re not alone.”

How many times was I going to have to hear that? I licked my lips and slowly looked up, noticing how there weren’t any plates on the table yet. Just napkins and – surprisingly – plastic cutlery. At that last discovery, I looked up at Jinyoung, a confused expression on my face.

“They – well, the supervisors don’t want us to hurt ourselves,” he explained, “Not by accident – and definitely not on purpose, either…” Jinyoung’s face wore a cautious expression and I noticed how he’d lowered his voice as well.

For the first time that evening, I looked up and scanned the faces of the boys around me. One of them was staring right back at me and I gulped, recognizing him. It was the boy that had been staring at me when my parents were dealing with the paperwork. I felt my face heat up and the boy smirked almost wickedly as he leaned his cheek into the palm of his hand. I looked away, watching as a few supervisors started putting hard plastic plates filled with delicious smelling food in front of each one of us.

I almost smiled and looked around, noticing how some of the other boys were already digging into their meals while others prayed first. I took that chance to start eating as well, since I was never one to be overly religious. I’d rather thank the cook than someone who’s done fuck-all for me my entire life. I sighed contentedly and soon most of the food on my plate was gone. There was a soft tap against my shoulder and I cautiously turned until I was face to face with a pink haired boy that was timidly smiling down at me from his seat next to mine. He looked younger than I was, but he was definitely taller.

“Would you…” he started, seemingly not knowing how to phrase what he wanted to say, “Would you like to have mine as well? I’m not very hungry, so…”

I was somewhat dumbstruck. Even though I felt highly uncomfortable sitting at the table with so many people I didn’t know, this boy seemed to be so gentle that I almost immediately nodded, shrugging nonchalantly. I didn’t say anything and neither did he, but he smiled then and took his plate, ready to hand it over before one of the supervisors spoke up, frowning.

“Yugyeom, you know the rules. You don’t want it to end like it did last week, do you?” The voice was stern and I saw the kid – Yugyeom? – flinch visibly, immediately putting his plate back down. He apologized quickly and bowed his head before he hesitantly took his cutlery and started forcing the tiniest bits of food into his mouth. I saw the pain in his eyes - he was tearing up. I felt sorry for the boy. I turned to Jinyoung, not knowing what to do, but he merely shook his head.

Jinyoung looked over to where Yugyeom sat and then leaned in, whispering softly as he explained to me what just happened,

“Yugyeom always pretends to just be friendly, but he hates eating. He’s anorexic. He got into trouble last week because he was losing weight again, so just leave it for now. He’s really, really nice but don’t underestimate him when he wants to get rid of his food.”

My eyes were wide open and my face had probably paled a little. I nodded, staring down at my empty plate. All of this really made me wonder what all of these people were in here for.

When Jinyoung and I finished eating, he told me we were free to hang out in the common room or go back to our rooms. He took me to his room first and showed me around. I found out that he was diagnosed with anxiety, depression and OCD – which I made a mental note of not to forget again – about two years prior to his admittance at the institute. Apparently, he met his best friend when he first came here, but said best friend had been released from the institute about a year ago. Jinyoung promised to introduce me to the guy, since he visited a lot. I only nodded every once in a while and Jinyoung seemed to be content with just doing the talking.

He asked me if I wanted to go to the common room and I followed him like a lost puppy as my eyes cautiously scanned all of the doors and rooms we passed. We entered a lounge that was surprising cozy. There was a pool table, a foosball table, and a big TV that hung from the wall. Some people were drawing at a table or were tapping away at some of the computers that were installed in the corner, while others just lounged on one of the sofas. I even thought I saw a couple getting really comfy on one of them.

I frowned and looked at Jinyoung, who was snickering because of it. “The institute doesn’t really have anything against dating in here. Since we’re all guys and we all have our own rooms, shit gets down sometimes,” He eyed me for a moment and then continued, “Not everyone’s gay in here, don’t worry.”

It’s not that I was worried about it, because I wasn’t entirely straight myself, but I definitely hadn’t expected things to be so relaxed around here. I patiently waited for Jinyoung to lead us wherever he wanted to hang out, but I felt someone’s gaze burning my skin off again, so I looked up; dreading to see what was going on. The same scrawny boy with the platinum hair was staring at me again, only this time he was doing so while he had his arms around someone. The both of them – and one more person I didn’t really notice – were standing at the pool table. Whoever the boy was, and why he had was developing such an interest in me was none of my business, so I averted my gaze once more.

Jinyoung led us to sit on one of the couches. He was mumbling to himself again and shook his head every time someone changed the channel – all the while, he was talking my ear off about needing a haircut. Apparently, the institute had all sorts of stuff. They had a hairdresser, there was a pool nearby that, if you got permission and supervision, you were allowed to go to and swim in. On some days you could go into town, but nobody really wanted to; everybody seemed to agree on the fact that this town was creepy as hell.

I had zoned out while Jinyoung was blabbering away and seized up a little as the scrawny kid from before suddenly stood in front of me, kneeling down to match my eye level.

“Hey, pretty boy, how’s your first day going, hmm? Need a tour?” To add to the confusion, this kid even winked at me. I looked over at Jinyoung, who was already glaring daggers at the boy.

“Fuck off, Bambam. Lost your boyfriend, did you?” Jinyoung raised an eyebrow. It seemed like these two really didn’t like each other. BamBam scoffed, clutching at his chest in feigned offense.

“I’m shocked, Jinyoung. Are you already claiming this one as your own? Sharing is caring, you know…” The boy pouted, but his innocence seemed as fake as his face was. How much makeup was this guy wearing?

Jinyoung leaned in, his expression hard and unforgiving as he nearly spat a reply into the boy’s face, “Stop bothering people and get over yourself. I’m not like you. Now get lost or I’ll tell the supervisor you threw up your dinner again.”

The boy’s cocky expression seemed to falter and he swallowed, reluctantly getting up. Once he’d thrown Jinyoung one last nasty look, he walked back over to the pool table, where one of the boys that were still playing slid his hand into Bambam’s back pocket. The boy smiled and clung to him once more.

I turned back to Jinyoung, my expression shocked and more confused than it had been that day. The other just sighed and sat back, relaxing a little, “Don’t ever believe anything he says. He’s a compulsive liar and a prick, too. He’s supposed to be here for treatment but he doesn’t give a shit about it. He’s been in confinement multiple times and has been on an IV drip more times than you can count,” the boy went on, “He’s bulimic and anorexic, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to stop and honestly—I don’t think he’ll ever get better. Maybe he’s just miserable. Maybe that’s why he’s such a prick… I felt bad for him at first, but then he said some shit that made me go into one of the worst episodes of my life. Believe me – you really shouldn’t trust him.”

I just listened, frowning as all of this new information processed.

About five minutes later, the supervisors came in and gave everyone their pills. I bowed my head gratefully and took them. I stayed in the lounge with Jinyoung, listening to him rant about some of the pricks that used to stay at the institute but were now long gone. Time passed and we ended up watching part of the movie that was on. I was slowly starting to get used to Jinyoung’s OCD habits and eventually didn’t even notice him doing it anymore.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar shade of pink approach us and I looked off to see Yugyeom carefully taking a seat next to me. He smiled apologetically, greeted both of us and introduced himself to me.

“I’m really sorry for what happened at dinner tonight…” He started, but I held my hands up, shaking my head. I felt sorry for the boy and I didn’t want him to think that he needed to apologize.

“No, please,” he said, “Let me explain…” He sighed and smiled a little, shrugging, “I had to go for a weigh-in today. I’m anorexic and I have BDD(*), you see.” I nodded slowly, gulping, but letting the boy continue.

“Last week I actually threw up my food. Like 15 times that week. I don’t usually do that. I hate throwing up; I’m not bulimic at all. But I was gaining weight and I felt terrible. I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror anymore; I was desperate.” He gulped, and I saw his eyes tearing up again, “I got into trouble. The supervisors found out and I was put into confinement. They’re keeping an extra close eye on me now. This morning I found out I gained weight again, so I’m feeling pretty shitty. Since you’re new and all, I thought I’d try to slip you my food. I’m sorry, really. I hope I didn’t get you into any trouble…”

Again I was shaking my head, my head feeling a bitty fuzzy again as the pills started to do their job. Yugyeom found out that I really didn’t talk at all, but he told me he was fine with it as long as we were cool about what happened earlier. Jinyoung and Yugyeom seemed to know each other well so I felt pretty good about already having met two people on the day of my arrival. It calmed me to know that I really wasn’t alone in this. Both boys had their cell phones with them so when they asked me to put my number into their phones, I did – though I didn’t really see why that was necessary. They explained to me that it was common here for people to text each other all the time, so I was cool with it.

Jinyoung asked me if I wanted to take a shower first and I tilted my head in confusion, not sure why he’d ask me such a question. The boys explained to me that the showers were open from 5AM to 11PM. If I wanted to shower before bedtime, now was the time to do it.

We stood up from the couch, only to watch Yugyeom cringe a little at something he saw. We followed his gaze and eventually saw BamBam lying on the pool table, having his neck sucked by one of the boys that were standing next to him before. Their friend was casually leaning against the wall, tapping away at his cell phone and not really minding whatever the boys were doing.

I raised an eyebrow and eyed both Yugyeom and Jinyoung, who both looked at the scene with an expression of both disgust and worry. Yugyeom leaned over and whispered to me, explaining what was happening,

“BamBam’s usually doing whatever he can to get attention and the guy that he’s sucking face with is Jaebum. You might wanna stay away from him. He’s in here because of some kind of sex addiction and aggressive behavior. Really not the type of person you should be getting involved with. I guess BamBam’s the hole to put his cock in for the night.”

Jinyoung sighed, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes, “Bet you 5 bucks BamBam’s gonna be limping tomorrow.” Yugyeom snorted while my eyes were still fixed in the other direction, but my eyes were no longer on the face-sucking couple.

The guy that had been playing on his phone next to them had stuffed his phone into his pocket, looked up and locked gazes with me. He then gave me a small smile that made my face turn a bright red. He was gorgeous. I was glued to the ground, not able to turn away, even if I wanted to. He clearly hadn’t noticed me before, because he was looking at me with interest, grinning gently. He cocked his head to the side just as the others dragged me out of the room, rambling on about something else already.

That was the first time I ever laid eyes on Jackson Wang. As I was dragged through the corridors of Saint Dymphna, I couldn’t help but wanting to take a cold, _cold_ shower.

 

* * *

(*) BDD : body dysmorfic disorder; a mental disorder via obsessive preoccupation with a perceived defect in one's own appearance, viewed as so severe as to warrant exceptional measures to hide or fix it. In BDD's delusional variant, the flaw is imagined. If the flaw is actual, its importance is severely exaggerated. Distinguished from anorexia nervosa, BDD is categorized in the obsessive–compulsive spectrum.

More info:  
<https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Body_dysmorphic_disorder>  
<http://psychcentral.com/disorders/body-dysmorphic-disorder-symptoms/>


	2. Part two

4.775 WORDS

* * *

 

> "Clinical depression goes by many names -- depression, "the blues," biological depression, major depression. But it all refers to the same thing: feeling sad and depressed for weeks or months on end (not just a passing blue mood). This feeling is most often accompanied by feelings of hopelessness, a lack of energy (or feeling "weighed down"), and taking little or no pleasure in things that gave you joy in the past. A person who's depressed just "can't get moving" and feels completely unmotivated to do just about anything. Even simple things -- like getting dressed in the morning or eating -- become large obstacles in daily life. People around them -- their friends and family -- notice the change too. Often they want to help, but just don't know how." --- John M. Grohol, Psy.D.

* * *

The halls of the institute seemed soothing at this time of night. They calmed Mark’s mind in ways he hadn’t even considered possible. When he and his parents decided to get him the help he needed, Mark imagined himself in the confines of a straightjacket. The idea seemed ridiculous now as his newfound friends were dragging him down the halls of the building that he had gotten to know a little during the past few hours. Sure, it was going to take him some time to get used to everything – not to mention the other patients – but somehow he didn’t really mind the situation he was in. Of course he’d rather be at home, but again, the burden he’d put on his parents’ shoulders had become too much over the past few months. It was better this way.

Mark licked his chapped lips as he passed along several doors until they reached the end of one of the hallways. He looked up and saw a double and a single door, the double on his left and the other on his right. He frowned in confusion until Yugyeom pushed through the double doors.

“This is where you can get clean towels and bottles of body wash and lotions and stuff.” Yugyeom quickly bowed to a supervisor who was currently looking up from the book he was reading.

“I’m just showing Mark around,” the pink haired boy explained, earning a small nod and a smile in Mark’s direction.

The young boy continued showing him where everything was and then pushed several products and two big towels into Mark’s arms, making the older boy smile lightly. He sure was making an effort. If he’d known that people were going to be like this, he probably would’ve struggled less on his way to the institute. Everyone was going out of their way to make sure Mark didn’t go berserk on his first day.

Mark tried not to zone out as Yugyeom went on and on, leading them into the shower rooms that were behind the single door, where he showed him the changing area, the lockers and the shower cubicles. It wasn’t like Mark hadn’t seen cubicles like these before, or even used them, but still he let the boy finish talking. Mark hadn’t the words to stop him from doing so anyway.

The boys then told Mark to take a long shower and then get a good night sleep. Breakfast would be served at 8.30AM. The brunet watched the boys dash off into the hallway once more and Mark faintly registered Jinyoung arguing with Yugyeom. Something along the lines of Jinyoung going into a hissy fit if Yugyeom didn’t actually finish his breakfast the next morning. Mark bit down on his lower lip, thanking whoever would listen that the boys he’d met that evening turned out to be this nice.

He quickly got undressed, storing his clothes into one of the lockers before he grabbed his towels and the products he was given, disappearing into one of the cubicles.

As he felt the water trickle down the tense muscles in his back and further down the curve of his ass, Mark almost groaned, rolling his shoulders to relax them a little. The day had been long, emotional and exhausting. Honestly, the brunet couldn’t wait to finally let his head hit the pillow. He faintly wondered what time it was and then he definitely felt like an idiot for leaving his phone in room – his very much unlocked room. The thought still didn’t please him. Mark had always been very set on his privacy, and this was most definitely a violation to it; even if it was for his own good.

He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, letting the water hit his cheeks. They slowly turned a faint red from the temperature of the water and he let out a soft sigh. His mind wandered, going over the day’s events again and again, until he pressed his lips together at a very specific memory. The guy that was with Jaebum and BamBam. He was stunning, but then again so were some of the other patients. It only went to show that beauty’s only skin deep. You can never judge a book by its cover; or whatever the cliché was.

Mark reached out for one of the bottles and squirted some of the liquid into the palm of his hand, quickly bringing it up to massage the cold goo into his scalp. It honestly did help him to relax, but soon he was frowning again, getting worked up over his hair getting too long. The guys did mention a hairdresser in the institute, but that would involve him going there and burdening an already very busy person. He sighed in frustration and turned on the water once more, stepping forward to let the water rinse out the substance.

If he didn’t relax soon, he wouldn’t be getting any sleep at all – even though he was dead tired. The brunet worried his bottom lip and felt some of the dry skin snap beneath his teeth, letting the metallic taste of blood slip onto his tongue. He tried to focus on any sounds indicating he wasn’t alone in the room, but luckily there was nothing. Mark reached out and turned up the temperature of the water before he rested his forehead against the tiles of the cubicle.

He rubbed at his cheeks, feeling a faint stubble there before he let one of his hands rest up against the tiles above his head. The other travelled down his chest, making Mark’s heartbeat race slightly in anticipation. He gulped before pressing his cracked lips together a little tighter and reached down to cup his balls, slowly fondling them as he felt his length twitch ever so lightly. He knew it wouldn’t be long before it was too late to stop what he was doing.

By the time he was fisting his cock using some of the lotion Yugyeom had given him, Mark’s heart was hammering against his chest. He was well aware of the fact that anyone could walk in and hear him at any given moment. It made Mark’s stomach twist and turn and, for a moment, Mark had to remind himself that he was only doing this because he needed to relax. Doing this in his room might not be the best idea – not on his first night in the building, anyway. Who knew how thick the walls of the rooms were; maybe you could even hear someone snore in the other room. Jacking off wasn’t the best idea in that case – especially knowing how vocal Mark could get whenever he really got into it.

He made a mental note to ask the supervisor to give him a stronger pill before bedtime the next day – this tension was ridiculous. His wrist worked on his cock as Mark allowed his mind to wonder once more. Usually it’d just be the same as it always was. He’d imagine some of his favorite porn videos he used to watch before his parents took away his laptop. They’d tell him that the internet was only going to make him have more and worse episodes. Tonight, however, Mark’s mind wandered towards the same person for the second time – the guy he’d seen in the lounge.

Before Mark could even register what was happening, he was panting shamelessly, his cheek pressed against the tiles as his hips quickly snapped forward, creating delicious friction against the palm of his hand. Mark’s imagination produced images of toned muscles and strong hands sliding down his body. The sweet grin he’d seen no longer than an hour ago ran through his mind. He mewled, his jaw going slack as he reached back and spread his ass cheeks as much as he could with one hand, rubbing a slick finger against his tight pucker, feeling it twitch under his fingertips. The thought of the unknown boy rubbing up against his ass like that made Mark groan as a slick finger pressed past the tight ring of muscles. He hadn’t intended on going this far, but the brunet was too far gone. The stretch of his finger pressing in deep was burning deliciously and Mark’s eyes rolled back, a ripple of pleasure washing through his chest and down his spine. “Ngh--,” the boy flicked his thumb across the leaking head of his length and he swallowed thickly, his breath now labored as he struggled to get air in the tiny, heated cubicle.

The boy in his fantasies added another digit and so did Mark, whining as his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. His fingers eagerly curled up and pressed in deeper, searching for the spot that would no doubt get him what he so desperately wanted. It took a few attempts but _oh_ – once the brunet found what he was looking for, it was worth it.

He felt his knees buckle and whimpered, his eyes now barely open as he paused and re-adjusted. He lowered himself onto the cold tiles of the floor, his knees apart and his head tilted back to expose his neck. The hot water hit his cheeks once more as he moaned, his breath coming out in shudders now as the tension in his shoulders and chest unraveled almost completely.

Teeth nibbled at his neck and a thick, hard cock filled him up so perfectly that Mark almost forgot that he was doing all of this to himself. He squeezed his eyes shut and started moving his hips once more, pushing down against the digits and pushing back up into the confines of his fist. With every thrust the brunet’s mind become more and more clouded – up to the point where he didn’t even register the sounds that he was emitting.

Mark squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the tell-tale tingle low in his abdomen and whimpered once more. He picked up the pace until he released into the palm of his hand, hot spurts of white coating his wet, slick fingers.

He stayed like that for a little while longer and willed himself to open his eyes, his expression softening considerably. There it was – the high that never failed to calm his nerves. Mark slowly pushed himself up from the ground and rinsed all of the stickiness off his skin. He then turned off the water and sighed contently. Reaching out for one of the towels, he took his time drying himself before he wrapped the towel around his hips, drying his hair with the second towel. He let it hang around his neck and took whatever bottles he’d brought, remembering that he had to return everything to the supervisor in the other room once he was done.

Opening the door of the cubicle, Mark froze. That Jaebum kid was standing on the opposite side of the room – a shocked expression on his face. Mark’s heart was once more hammering against his chest and for a moment, he felt like he was going to throw up. Jaebum said nothing. He only watched as Mark shakily shuffled out of the cubicle and made his way over to the lockers.

Technically Jaebum hadn’t done anything wrong, but Mark felt violated by the way the boy had probably heard the whole thing and was obviously still figuring out how to call Mark out on his late night adventures. He gulped and set down the bottles, constantly watching the other boy. Jaebum took a few steps forward and closed in on Mark, making him back up against the lockers. A cold shiver ran up Mark’s spine, signaling that things were looking bad and Mark would have to suffer through a whole night of anxiety attacks. His breathing was shallow and uneven and he trembled as Jaebum inched closer, his eyes racking down Mark’s torso and even further down to the towel that hung loosely around his thighs.

“You,” Jaebum started, speaking slowly before his eyes turned dark – yet the slight shock, or was it panic, was still evident – and Mark felt the other’s breath against his lips, “You better watch it.” For a moment, Mark could swear he heard pain in the boy’s voice. Still, it did nothing to calm the brunet.

After uttering those words, the younger pulled back and quickly walked out of the room, back into the hallway.

Mark sank to the ground, his towel barely covering him now he was trembling, trying to get his breathing back to normal. Once he did, he bent his legs at the knee and rested his elbows on them, the palms of his hands fisting his hair now. What the hell was that all about?

_“You might wanna stay away from him.”_

Yugyeom’s words echoed through his mind and Mark shook his head. Jaebum’s conditions made for a really bad combo. Really, really fucking bad. Mark felt like he’d just escaped from some kind of molestation, it wasn’t doing him any good. He sat there for a good ten minutes before he shakily got up and got dressed. He made a mental note to bring pajamas next time he took a shower here at night. There was no point in having to change twice.

He was still trying to calm himself as he returned the bottles and the wet towels to the room across from the one he was in, earning him a concerned look from the supervisor. Mark simply shook his head reassuringly and tried to smile – it was fake, but still. Nothing had truly happened and there was no real reason to alarm anyone about his little encounter with Im Jaebum.

The supervisor seemed to let it go and said something along the lines of “Get a good night sleep, kid” – Mark wasn’t really paying attention but bowed anyway before he rushed back out of the room and into the hallway, trying to find his room in the huge building.

But of course, things just couldn’t be simple for him, could they? He ended up at the lounge – _twice_ – before he finally found the right way to his room. The building was just too damn huge – anyone would get lost. Turning a corner, the object of his current distress was talking to the object of his fantasies. Jaebum was standing a few feet away from Mark’s bedroom door and was talking frantically to the guy he’d seen at the lounge. The latter was looking at Jaebum with a look of concern in his eyes before he turned to stare straight back at Mark.

Mark’s heart started pounding again, not knowing what to think and most definitely making him too scared to move, let alone casually walk into his room and pretend that those two weren’t standing outside his safe haven. Not to mention the fact that Mark’s cheeks were turning an unpleasant shade of crimson. He’d just spent ten minutes jacking off to the mere mental image of this guy’s face.

And chest.

And fingers.

And co–

Jaebum turned around, following the other boy’s gaze before his features turned to one of shock once more and he tapped the other’s chest, nodding towards Mark.

“That’s him,” he stated.

The cute guy’s eyes widened before a frown ruined his beautiful features. “Dude – what the fuck?! You’re shitting me, right?”

Mark barely registered the other’s words, he merely watched as Jaebum rolled his eyes at whatever the other boy said next and muttered a “goodnight”. He then walked straight past Mark, but not before shooting him one last piercing look, making Mark’s stomach twist uncomfortably.

He was still standing there, unable to move as he watched the object of his fantasies sigh and look back at Mark. The brunet could swear he saw the other’s features soften slightly before he turned around and entered the room next to Mark’s – room 94.

A shaky breath that apparently Mark was holding left his lips and he felt the need to slide down the wall and just sit there for a while. He didn’t, however. Being only a few feet away from his room, Mark forced himself to move and eventually collapsed onto his bed once he’d made it there.

Changing was a nightmare. His limbs were trembling and the fact that the object of his imagination was in the room next to him was both terrifying and nauseating, knowing what Mark had been doing not 15 minutes ago.

He gulped as he finally managed to change into a new pair of boxer shorts and a shirt that was most definitely a few sizes too big. His brother made fun of his nighttime attire, but honestly Mark was a man that preferred comfort over fashion. Crawling into bed, he reached over to check his phone.

**2 new messages**

* * *

**Unknown sender**

Hey hyung~  
It's Jinyoung here!  
Don’t forget, breakfast’s at 8.30!

Night night! <3

* * *

**Unknown sender**

I hate that you had to see that shit…  
I swear BamBam’s gonna get some sort of disease if he keeps dealing with Jaebum,  
that guy’s really too much sometimes. Don’t worry about it too much, alright? I’ll protect you! (((￣へ￣井)

Anyway, get some rest, yeah?  
See you in the morning! Breakfast’s at 8.30!  
I’ll come get you, we’ll go together, alright?

Btw it’s Yugyeom ٩(♡ε♡ )۶  
♡ Nightnight! ♡

* * *

Mark let out a soft breath as he read both messages and quickly added the senders to his list of contacts. As his eyes scanned the texts a for second time, he worried his already busted bottom lip and gulped. This Jaebum kid seemed notorious among the other patients. It got him wondering how the guy next door – his fantasy prince for short – got into this place. He seemed perfectly normal. However, he was hanging out with Jaebum; something had to be wrong with him. Was he anything like Jaebum? The hormone driven part of Mark briefly noted that he wouldn’t mind having him watch him shower, but the brunet quickly brushed off that thought. He really was going insane.

He huffed, plugging his in-ear headphones into his phone before he put on some music and stuffed the phone beneath his pillow out of pure habit. Mark let the soothing sounds of his favorite artists calm his nerves. It seemed like he wasn’t going to have to go through a terribly chaotic night. The day’s events had worn the boy out so much that he felt his limbs go numb the second he closed his eyes. He felt like he was slowly sinking away into the surprisingly soft mattress and sighed in relief as sleep slowly took over him.

The next morning he woke up because of his alarm clock. He’d set it at 8AM so he’d have a little time before he would be expected at breakfast. He groaned as the light from outside shone in through the window and a pleasant sound of the wind going through the bushes around the institute slowly registered in the brunet’s mind.

Mark sat up slowly, the shirt he was dressed in now wrinkled and warm against his chest. He reached up and rubbed at his eyes, yawning as he went over what the female supervisor had told him the day before. He was supposed to attend both group and individual sessions. A brief reminder of him also having to go to the institute’s shrink that day made him wince a little. He hated doctors – seen so much of them that he’d come to detest the very thought of them. This time was no exception. No matter how skilled or kind they were, they only had one sole purpose: to prescribe him pills to help him get through the day.He briefly thought about the fact that he might not get better. Maybe if he got the right pills, it wouldn’t even be so bad.

Mark could feel his hands shaking. He gulped at the realization that whatever pills he was given the day before had worn off completely. That thought was anything but reassuring. He shuddered as he stood up and wobbled his way towards the sink, feeling the oversized shirt hit the back of his thighs. Looking at his reflection, Mark noticed that the dark circles beneath his eyes from the previous days were starting to fade. He quickly brushed his teeth and looked up once more. That’s when he lost track of time. He must’ve been staring at his reflection for quite some time because before he could even register it, there was a rather firm knock at the door.

The brunet scurried off to quickly open the door, completely oblivious to his current outfit. An amused looking Yugyeom was trying to contain his laughter as he greeted the older boy.

“Wow,” he stated, “That’s really cute, hyung. But if you’re going to come to breakfast, you better change into something that won’t get you molested.” The younger actually blushed a little.

Mark, however, turned a deeper shade of crimson and squeezed his eyes shut with embarrassment. He cleared his throat and stepped aside, letting the younger into the room. He motioned for the pink-haired boy to take a seat on the bed and then quickly moved over to his closet. Picking out some blue jeans and a loose fitting shirt, he quickly got dressed. The brunet then put some wax in his hair, styling it to look disheveled. He looked back over to the younger, only to raise an eyebrow at the boy’s flustered expression.

“Hyung,” he started, “Not to be weird or anything, but you look hot. I think wearing the pajamas to breakfast was less risky than... -- that.” Mark blinked owlishly, looking to the side before he grabbed his cellphone. Yugyeom stood and guided them out of the room and towards the refectory.

They were quickly greeted by a very cheerful Jinyoung, making both boys a little suspicious as to what was up.

“Guys—Guys, guess what? Youngjae’s coming over today! He texted me this morning and told me that his classes are canceled.” The boy started babbling about his best friend and Mark soon found out that Youngjae was currently a music major. Apparently both Jinyoung and Youngjae were pretty good at singing and Mark found himself hoping he’d hear them sing sometime; the sooner the better.

Breakfast was pretty uneventful. Mark got his pills, which he gratefully accepted. The shaking hadn’t stopped and the others had noticed as well. Luckily they pretty much knew what it was like, so there was enough support to not feel bad about it. He stole a few glances around the refectory, his eyes searching for his – well, _the hot one_. Sadly, he ended up disappointed. The guy was nowhere in sight.

“Where the hell is Jackson? He’s been here long enough to know you’re not supposed to skip meals.”

Mark could tell that Yugyeom was mainly upset because the supervisors were keeping a close eye on him and his eating patterns instead of worrying about this Jackson – whoever he was – who apparently didn’t seem to mind breaking a rule or two. But the pink-haired boy continued.

“I just hope BamBam didn’t seduce him or something – poor guy.”

Jinyoung butted in then. “I believe BamBam was too busy sucking face with Jaebum. I don’t think he could handle Jackson after dealing with that creep.”

Yugyeom smirked, “You know, you’re always going on about what a psycho Jaebum is, but you can’t deny it – he’s hot.”

At this, Jinyoung sighed. “So hot…” He pouted, “Such a pity…”

The younger cackled, throwing his head back in amusement before his smile faltered. BamBam just walked into the refectory, earning a glare from one supervisor and a scolding from the other for being late. The boy merely rolled his eyes and took his pills before walking over to their table, taking a seat a few feet away from them.

“Wow, sitting pretty. I guess Jaebum didn’t fuck him, then,” Jinyoung stated, causing Yugyeom to almost choke on his water before snickering. Mark merely took everything in, raising his eyes as a way of interacting whenever he thought it was appropriate.

Everyone went back to their rooms after that. Mark was told by one of the supervisors that he had one hour of free time before they would come to escort him to his doctor’s appointment. His stomach turned at the thought but luckily, the pills he’d been given were doing their job wonderfully. At a time like this, Mark would go into a full-on panic attack. Now, he was merely a little nervous.

Mark spent the hour with Jinyoung and Yugyeom, letting them hang out in his room. Nothing much was said. The three boys were mainly just reading or listening to music. Jinyoung was eagerly texting Youngjae who was probably having a hard time living his life due to the boy’s constant stalking. It almost made the brunet smile to know that bonds like these could be made at the institute. After all, Jinyoung and Youngjae had met each other when they first got admitted.

A knock on the door was heard and all boys stood up from their positions on Mark’s bed. Both Jinyoung and Yugyeom told him they’d come back after Mark had returned from his appointment. They wished him good luck and told him everything would be fine. Mark merely nodded and followed the supervisor who’d come to escort him to what apparently was the sleek, white building next to the institute.

Following the supervisor, Mark zoned out. He barely registered the man explaining how much of an expert this doctor was and mainly worried about his Converse sneakers looking all but clean. The mud caused by yesterday’s rain was still sticking to his favorite shoes, making the frown on the boy’s features deepen even more.

The brunet found that meeting with the doctor wasn’t so bad. They went over Mark’s diagnoses and the boy had to write down all of the symptoms he’d been suffering from most lately. Then the doctor proceeded to ask him yes or no questions about his conditions. Mark’s selective mutism wasn’t exactly a great thing to have and it definitely didn’t make things easier for the doctor. Said man told him that he’d open up sometime in the future. Mark was promised to get better once he got comfortable enough to communicate. It was “the best way to get out the negative and bring in the positive” – something that Mark had heard over and over again. He sighed and nodded anyway, hoping that his new-found friends would help him get through that barrier.

The doctor made a new list of prescriptions and told Mark that he’d have a meeting with him every two weeks. After that, the man told one of the supervisors to escort the brunet back to the institute so he could participate in all planned activities.

Mark had apparently been gone for a good half hour before he texted the boys. They met up at Mark’s bedroom door and the boy gave them a reassuring almost-smile before he plopped down onto his bed and rubbed his eyes.

Yugyeom pursed his lips and sighed. “I do wonder where Jackson’s at. I haven’t seen him all morning. He’s overslept once or twice but never this late.”

Jinyoung then frowned, “Wait, we’re in room 93, right?” Mark nodded, making Jinyoung grin and get on the bed. Mark’s eyes widened as the dark-haired boy started pounding on the wall, yelling.

_"Jackson! Hey, wake the fuck up sunshine! Get over here! Room 93!"_

Mark froze.

He knew who stayed in room 94.

Now, he had a name.


	3. Part three

6,716 WORDS

* * *

> “Social anxiety disorder, also known as social phobia, is an intense fear of becoming extremely anxious and possibly humiliated in social situations — specifically of embarrassing yourself in front of other people. A person who suffers from social anxiety tends to think that other people are far better at public speaking, or hanging out in a social sociation and mingling with others at a party. The person tends to focus on every little small mistake they do in a social situation, and exaggerate them out of proportion. Simply blushing may seem painfully embarrassing to a person with a social phobia, and they may feel as though all eyes are focused on them. Some people with social anxiety have specific fears, such as public speaking or needing to talk to their boss about a concern at work. Other times, the fears may be more generalized — such as a fear of any social situation whatsoever, especially those involving strangers.” --- Psych Central

* * *

The problem with having a social and/or anxiety disorder, is the fact that even admitting to having one, or generally showing strangers that you’re suffering from them, is enough to make you go into a full episode. Especially when one is trying to – consciously or subconsciously – impress someone.

This was how Mark found himself struggling to breathe as Jinyoung was pounding his fist on the wall next to him, egging Jackson on to join them in his room. _Mark’s_ room. Said brunet was trying to breathe and school his features at the same time, which was useless since he was paling more with every passing second; a nauseating feeling ripping from the bottom of his gut straight into his throat.

Apparently Yugyeom noticed because next thing Mark knew, both boys were in his face, shaking him as frowns etched deeper into their features. Mark shook his head quickly in an attempt to reassure the boys, but to no avail. Jinyoung had stopped trying to convince Jackson to come over altogether and was trying to knock some sense into Mark, whose breathing had started coming out in short puffs. The brunet faintly registered Yugyeom reaching over to press the red button above the boy’s bed before Mark grabbed his arm and shook his head once more.

It took him a good ten minutes to calm down, mainly because he was still expecting his next door neighbor to come bursting through his bedroom door at any given moment. When he’d figured that it wasn’t about to happen, it was only a matter of time before Mark’s breathing was back to normal. The other boys were still crowded around him, waiting for the brunet to give some sign of being okay.

Mark worried his lower lip, heat rising to his cheeks in embarrassment. He’d ruined it again, for everyone in the room. Everyone had been having fun, everything had been chill. Just one simple, stupid thing – stupid _person_ , in this case – was enough to make Mark lose his shit and ruin it all. _Pathetic_. He still felt like throwing up, but he supposed that would worsen the situation and make the supervisors think he had yet another disorder to add to the list that was already longer than he liked to admit.

He cleared his throat, remembering what the doctor had said. It was all in his head and communication was the best way to make sure he’d get better … eventually. Mark parted his lips slightly, shakily dragging his tongue along his bottom lip as he looked up apologetically. He had to apologize. He had to.

A pathetic whimper slipped past his lips; nothing more. Mark felt like the biggest disappointment in the world; he couldn’t even get himself to say sorry. Tears rimmed his eyes, threatening to spill and roll all the way down his cheeks.

“Hey,” Jinyoung placed a hand on his shoulder, a frown still spread across his features. “It’s okay, man. Don’t-,” he paused, “Don’t force yourself. We’ve all been there.”

Mark took the time to let the other’s words sink in and then nodded, forcing a soft, however fake smile onto his lips before he let his head fall back against the side of his bed.

The boys didn’t stay for much longer, reminding Mark that they had an hour of group activities ahead of them.

The “alone-time” came as more of a relief than he’d liked to admit. Mark had always felt best when by himself. When other people got involved, it usually only lasted for a good few moments before things got bad again.

Mark stood from where he was sitting on the ground and walked over to his mirror. All in all, he didn’t look too shabby, panic attack or none. He was very well aware of the fact that they had an art-related group activity ahead of him, so showing up looking like a wreck wasn’t really an option anyway.

The brunet nodded once to brace himself and stuffed his cellphone back into the pocket of his jeans. He cleared his throat and made his way over to his door, not ready to face the others – but with the activity planned, he didn’t really have much choice.

He was stunned as, the moment he opened his door, Jackson was standing right in front of him.

Mark’s eyes widened in shock and the temptation to slam the door shut was definitely there. He did no such thing, however. He just stood there, waiting and watching.

Jackson, didn’t really seem to mind at all.

“Oh, right. You heading out to arts, right?” The boy spoke. Mark didn’t reply – no surprise there.

Jackson frowned a little as he watched the brunet simply nod and stepped aside, letting the older boy step out into the hallway.

“The doctor wanted me to make sure you attended,so--.” The younger reached up and adjusted the snapback that was fashionable put on backwards and that obnoxiously read “WANG”.

Mark squinted at the thing, wondering why the boy was wearing such a ridiculous piece of accessory, in favor of dealing with another panic attack. He was currently walking beside the boy that had indirectly caused him to have one of the best orgasms he’d experienced in the past couple of months; that was bound to bring out some kind of reaction.

“I’m Jackson,” The younger grinned. Somehow Mark hadn’t noticed that when he’d been staring at the boy, Jackson had stared right back, making a reddish pink spread from the back of Mark’s ears towards his cheeks. The brunet merely nodded, as per usual.

“Jackson Wang.” Jackson looked like he was waiting for some kind of applause for knowing his own name. When he got nothing, a frown formed on his face. “It’s nice. To meet you.” He spoke a little louder, as if in addition to mute, Mark was also deaf.

This caused Mark to grin sheepishly, almost apologetically, which was exactly when Jackson halted in front of a door. Jackson didn’t seem so bad, maybe even funny. It was in this moment that the boy realized that first time in god knowns how long, he was finally, genuinely amused by something. Mark was in a daze, not even realizing they’d been standing there for a good two minutes or so.

Jackson pointed at the door, raising his eyebrows. “I hope you’re not waiting for me to open the door for you, princess.” He chuckled, doing nothing to reduce the pink in his cheeks. God, what an _idiot_.

Mark dipped his head and opened the door, stepping inside before he was greeted by a few confused faces.

“What the fuck, Jackson?” Mark’s heart jumped a little when he heard Jinyoung’s voice. “I’ve been— _we’ve_ been looking for you all morning.”

Said boy rolled his eyes. _Rolled_ his _eyes_. At _Jinyoung_.

“Don’t give me that, you prick.” Jinyoung was almost to the point of screeching now. “Do you realize how worried we were? _Do_ you? ”

“I was at the doctor’s all morning, _mom_.” He sighed, plopping down in one of the seats. This softened Jinyoung’s features a little, making him sigh as he leaned back in his seat.

“The doctor? I didn’t know you had an appointment today…” He swatted at the Wang’s chest. “You should’ve told us. Would’ve saved us the pain in the ass.”

Jackson cackled, “Nyoungie, I’m pretty sure we all know you don’t mind a little pain in the ass.”

This deserved him another slap, straight to the back of his head. Thank God for that ugly ass snapback, might have actually saved him from suffering from a concussion. Mark made a mental note not to anger Jinyoung. _Ever_.

“Besides,” Jackson went on, reaching over to pull Mark into the seat next to him. “I had to pick up my girlfriend on the way over, so—“

By this time, Mark had flushed a radish red all over, trying to keep his breakfast down. Holy shit, imagine _dating_ this idiot. It was easy enough to admit, though, Jackson was a hot idiot. Luckily, Yugyeom joined them at the right moment.

“Girlfriend? Jackson, you’re dating someone? Why don’t I know this?” He grinned, taking a seat in front of Jackson and Mark, sitting backwards on the chair so he was facing both of them.

Jackson grinned, sneaking his arm around Mark’s waist. “Yeah, this is my new girlfriend. Her name’s Ariel, she doesn’t talk much.”

“I swear to fucking God—“ Jinyoung started, glaring daggers in Jackson’s direction. “His name is Mark, and you’re gonna leave him the hell alone. He’s been through enough without having to deal with your shit.”

This drew Jackson’s attention to a now frozen Mark who was only an inch away of passing out, feeling Jackson’s warm hand dig into his hip. He didn’t know what was worse: feeling Jackson hold him close or feeling him pull away.

It had been years since Mark had last dated. He’d had hook-ups and he’d hung out with people, but he’d not properly dated in so long, feeling this fucked up over a boy was definitely sort of a novelty.

“You okay?”

Mark snapped out of it, looking back at Jackson before he nodded quickly and sat straight up in his seat, just in time to see one of the supervisors walk in.

He instructed everyone to sit in pairs. Most pairs he said nothing about, but with a few of his friends, he made adjustments. Jinyoung’s face paled a little when he was paired up with Jaebum. Honestly, it even made Mark’s stomach turn. Yugyeom was paired with BamBam. Again, not the supervisor’s best choice.

They decided not to go against the super's decisions and just huffed and frowned once they were all seated.

Jinyoung shifted uncomfortably. He felt the dark haired boy’s stare radiate against the side of his face and cleared his throat, looking around at the art projects they’d worked on in previous group sessions.

“Look,” Jinyoung started, “I don’t like this either, so let’s just get this the hell over with and go back to ignoring each other.”

When Jinyoung remained without any type of response from the other, he looked back at him and was met with a very confused looking Jaebum.

“I’ve never once ignored you.” The older boy stated, leaning back in his chair as evident annoyance etched into his features. He noticed how the supervisor was ticking off names when checking attendance and decided to lower his voice.

“I know you don’t like me, but—“ Jaebum didn’t even have the time to finish his sentence as Jinyoung had quickly turned around, already angry and not wanting to hear another word.

“Don’t _like_ you? You don’t get it, do you? People like _you_ shouldn’t— How could _anyone_ ever—“ He paused, shaking his head, “You realize everybody knows, right? It didn’t take long for people to find out how you _raped_ —“

“And people like you should never speak of something they don’t know _half_ about!” Jaebum snapped back, “You think you’re so _fucking_ smart but you don’t even know half of the people you think are your friends – don’t you _dare_ talk shit about strangers, because you don't know shit!”

Jinyoung blinked, his heart pounding in his throat as he watched Jaebum make his way out of the room, only just in time to flip off the supervisor as he tried to stop him. Jaebum slammed the door shut, leaving the rest of the patients in total silence.

Mark was now more confused than ever, though he felt slightly better about his own personal breakdown that same morning. Seeing the others go through their own problems kind of helped him realize that he definitely wasn’t in this alone.

“Park Jinyoung.” The supervisor spoke up, sighing as he motioned for the boy to join him. “Dr. Kim’s office, now.”

The younger got up reluctantly, still confused by Jaebum’s outburst. Mark watched as the supervisor – Taecyeon, he learned after the session – lead him out of the room, only to quickly call out into the room once more,

“You can all start by taking a pencil and paper and drawing your partner. If _anyone_ uses the pencils as a weapon, I’m putting them in the A section for two weeks. BamBam, Yugyeom, that goes for both of you as well— no funny business, I'm serious. An other supervisor will be here in a minute.”

And with that, the supervisor – and Jinyoung with him – was gone. Mark looked at Yugyeom with wide eyes, noting how he only smiled sheepishly.

“Yugyeom chased Bambam with a pencil during a previous group session.” Jackson stated as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. He noticed Mark’s look of obvious shock and chuckled, “That’s what you get when you put two of the sassiest patients in one group. Don’t know why they’d try to get them to be friends, honestly – those two are fire and water. Don’t ask me which is which, though.”

If Mark learned anything that day, it was that all of the patients were equally as talkative, making him feel even worse about not getting out a single syllable.

“Anyway,” The younger continued, “I can’t draw for shit, so don’t take it personal if I fuck this up.” Jackson got comfortable in his seat, taking off the hoodie he was wearing. Mark could swear he saw Jackson’s shirt ride up, revealing the younger’s happy trail. The brunet was about to look away, avoiding Jackson seeing the blush that threatened to crawl its way onto his features, when he saw them. Dozens upon dozens of little scars and dips into Jackson’s skin. Needle marks, burn marks that could only stem from cigarettes and God knows what else.

Mark gulped, unable to take his eyes off the boy’s arms. He couldn’t help but wonder if the rest of Jackson’s body was covered in them as well. Jackson noticed. He noticed the way Mark was looking at his scars.

“I’m not proud of them, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Mark looked up, meeting Jackson’s gaze. Jackson didn’t look as happy as he did before. His eyes were empty, dark. The boy reached out to his hoodie, starting to put it back on, before Mark caught the fabric and shook his head, looking at him apologetically.

“I’m here for a reason. Shit’s not all been rainbows and butterflies. For any of us. And by the way our fairy godmotherfucker Jinyoung snapped at me, I’m guessing you’ve had it pretty rough yourself.” He shook his head, “I’ll get better, someday. Someday I’ll be able to say that I got my shit together, you know?”

Mark’s stomach dropped. Hearing the boy talk like that made him feel like an idiot even more. The institute was the most inappropriate place to get a crush on someone, but somehow it got the brunet wondering. Why fall for someone who knows nothing about the shit he’d gone through? What if they didn’t get it? What if they didn’t understand why things didn’t always go as easily for Mark as they did for other people? What if they couldn’t handle it? The brunette knew he was overthinking things way too much, but at least he was thinking now and might not have to regret it later.

Jackson seemed to give in and put his hoodie aside before grabbing his pencil. “Alright, get ready for this. I’ll try and make you really pretty, promise.” He grinned that stupid grin and Mark couldn’t help but smile a little himself, looking at the blank page in front of him. He’d never been that good at drawing, but for the sake of not disappointing anyone, especially not Jackson, he’d give it a go.

* * *

Jinyoung was muttering to himself by the time they got to the doctor’s office. Both him and Taecyeon stepped inside and the younger was instructed to take a seat. He had to bite his tongue in order to not interfere as Taecyeon explained what had happened. With every sentence, the doctor looked at Jinyoung in greater and greater disappointment, making Jinyoung want to cry and run off because he wasn’t allowed to explain himself just yet.

Once he’d explained it all, Taecyeon told Jinyoung he could go to his room once the session with the doctor was over and left the office. Jinyoung then immediately tried to defend himself, avoiding anything the doctor was about to say.

“You don’t _get_ it, how can a rapist even think that people would just get over what he’s done?!” He cried, using hand gestures that proved just how desperately he was trying to convince the doctor. Jinyoung felt his lips trembling, the ticks surfacing before he could even try to control them.

“Jinyoung,” the doctor started, “Who told you about Jaebum’s past? Who told you he raped someone in the first place? Have you seen his record? Have you seen evidence?” The doctor was quite calm when he inquired for all this, making Jinyoung cringe a little.

“No, of course I wouldn’t want to see any evidence, how sick do you think I am? I’ve seen him with other people, doctor. He—“

“He has an addiction for sexual interaction, yes, I’m very well aware of that fact.” The doctor intervened, tilting his head, “But what does that have anything to do with him supposedly raping anyone?”

Jinyoung swallowed visibly, feeling as though something was about to go very, very wrong. He felt sweat trickle down his back as his body started to heat up, making him feel more than a little uncomfortable. “BamBam told me a few years ago. He told me about that girl Jaebum went to school with. About the trial—.”

“Has he now? Well, I wouldn’t want to burst you bubble, Jinyoung, but if Jaebum had been found guilty for rape, don’t you think he’d be in prison instead of in here? Even with an addiction as peculiar as this, rape is a criminal offense.”

The doctor sighed, “Miss Choi had indeed accused Jaebum of rape, because his addiction was already known well throughout the school. However, the court found out that she’d lied about what had happened that night. About her finding out that he wasn’t ready for a relationship. Now, Jinyoung, I think we both know there are two liars in this story,” he smiled. “BamBam was admitted to the institute diagnosed with compulsive lying, along with a few other disorders. I think you know that as well as I do. Jaebum has already accepted that BamBam spread those rumors about him. It’s what inspires Jaebum to work towards getting rid of this addiction in the first place. Jaebum doesn’t want to be accused of such a thing ever again – and I agree. He shouldn’t. He’s not a criminal, Jinyoung.” He shook his head, “He’s a patient, just as you are.”

It took Jinyoung a good few minutes to take it all in, but he was a smart boy that knew very well when he’d done something god awful. He swallowed once more, nodding in understanding. “I—I should go talk to him. To Jaebum. I owe him an apology.” Tears were rimming his eyes. Jinyoung always considered himself a nice person. Nice enough not to believe rumors, especially not when they were spread by liars. He felt like a fool, and a big one at that.

“Yes,” the doctor spoke, “You should. But not now. Go and rest. I hear that Youngjae is paying you a visit this afternoon.” He smiled, trying to avert Jinyoung’s thoughts from the event.

The boy nodded, sighing as he reached up and rubbed a hand through his hair. “Okay, yes. Tomorrow, then – definitely.” He cleared his throat, thanked the doctor and made his way out of the building and towards his room.

* * *

It was almost ridiculous how easy it was to get used to Jackson. Mark found himself actually _smiling_ , evoking more than just a few meaningful looks from the other boys. He was slowly losing the tense feeling in his gut as the session went on. Jackson was right; he really was shit at drawing. The younger ended up throwing the drawing into the trashcan, which Mark quickly pulled back out. He sneakily stuffed the drawing into the back pocket of his pants and followed Jackson out of the room, completely forgetting about Yugyeom whom was looking at them with a smug grin spread across his face.

Jackson lead Mark into the field behind the building, both of them plopping down onto the grass as the younger suggested they’d just get some fresh air before lunch. Mark’s medication was starting to wear off and he felt a light shiver run up his spine, spreading goosebumps all over his body.

“Are you cold?” Jackson asked, frowning a little. Mark shook his head, smiling softly in reassurance.

The younger sighed, resting his head in the palm of his hand. “I bet you 20 dollars I’ll get you to actually talk to me before the week’s over, you know.” He grinned. Mark just smiled apologetically, knowing very well he could spend months not being able to bring out a single syllable.

“No, I’m serious.” Jackson went on, “I will – promise. I—“ Jackson looked up, frowning at whatever was behind Mark. The latter looked back over his shoulder and froze. Jaebum was leaning against the doorframe, looking at the both of them.

“What?” Jaebum spoke, “You’re being a dick to me now, too?” Obviously his words were directed towards Jackson, but Mark still felt sick, like he was somehow very much involved in what was happening. Jackson shook his head and re-adjusted his stupid snapback.

“It’s not my fault Jinyoung snapped at you like that. And you know it’s not really his or yours either. You might wanna talk to BamBam about it.” Jackson shrugged, leaning back in the grass as he leaned on his elbows, not worried about getting dirty.

“Whatever, I’m going. Enjoy hanging out with your girlfriend, dick.” Jaebum grumbled, pushing away from the doorframe and left Mark staring and Jackson not really caring about the whole situation.

It took a good few minutes to explain Jaebum’s story, but once he had, Mark found a few little puzzle pieces falling into place.

“I’m not really bothered by what happened this morning, you know.” Jackson let his head fall back for a moment, cracking his neck before he looked back at the brunet. “I’m sure once Jinyoung learns the truth about Jaebum, everything will work out. It’s none of my business to meddle in what they have going between them. I’m more concerned about what happened last night.”

Mark found his face heating up. Oh god. There was no way Jackson or Jaebum could know who Mark was actually fantasizing about, but either way, it was embarrassing Mark to the point of ducking his head down.

“Jaebum told me he cornered you. Nothing really… happened though, right?”

Mark shook his head and looked up, happy to hear that Jackson either didn’t know any of the details, or had decided not to throw them in Mark’s face.

“Honestly, Jaebum’s all bark and no bite. He’s just—complicated. He’s not been here for as long as I have, though. I’ve been in here since I was 14.”

Mark’s eyes widened at that and he gulped at the realization that Jackson must have gone through quite a lot to get stuck in here at such an young age.

“It’s not so bad, you know? At least for me it wasn’t. They’ve always treated me nicely. It’s my home. I can’t go back to where I came from.” He smiled cynically, “Hell’s heaven compared to where I'm from.” He smiled up at Mark, shaking his head. “I’m better off now, you know? I’m getting better. Getting there—“

Jackson spent the next hour talking Mark’s ears off, telling him about some of the other patients. BamBam and Yugyeom, for example, had known each other since kindergarten. They’d attended the same schools, had a lot of the same friends; long story short: there’d always been some kind of competitive feeling between the boys. That’s how they got to this point. They’d both gotten obsessed with their weight, unknowingly pushed each other into eating disorders and eventually ended up in the same institute. Back in the day, they had to be put in solitary confinement because they lost their minds (and tempers) whenever they ran into each other. Hence the whole “stabbing-with-a-pencil” incident. It happened, from time to time, and it never got old.

“I ship them so hard.” Jackson sighed. This made Mark frown to himself as he shook his head. Jackson was definitely weird, to say the least.

Soon they found themselves sitting at the table in the refectory. Mark was feeling more than a little grateful once he’d gotten his pills. The red film of anxiety faded once the pills kicked in. They were joined by Jinyoung and Yugyeom, who was making a statement about BamBam being a prick all through lunch. Honestly it was a little funny to see him talk so passionately about another person, especially since the words were so very hateful.

Mark quickly finished his meal, making Yugyeom cringe. “How can you eat like that? Don’t you feel sick?”

Mark shook his head, leaned back in his seat and patted his stomach. Yugyeom shivered and shook his head, pushing and poking at his food.

“Yugyeom I swear to God, if you don’t stop playing with your food, I’m gonna force feed you—“ Jinyoung snapped, rubbing at his face in annoyance. He’d finished his food not long after Mark had and, knowing how caring he was, he’d been watching the young boy like a hawk ever since.

Said boy just pouted, eventually giving in and finished his food save for a few pieces of meat. _At least he’s eating_ , Mark thought.

“You must be pretty happy though,” Jackson spoke up, gaining everyone’s attention. His words were directed at Jinyoung, but the younger didn’t really seem interested. Jinyoung cocked an eyebrow and sighed.

“Happy? After all that happened this morning? What’s there to be happy about?”

Jackson shrugged, “Isn’t Youngjae visiting this afternoon?” This seemed to make Jinyoung’s features light up and Mark could swear he saw the other grinning a bit before straightening his face once more.

“Yeah, what’s it to you?”

Jackson rolled his eyes, “Jesus, crabby much? Youngjae’s my friend too you know, it’s not my fault you two were basically joined by the hip before he left.” He leaned forward, squinting a little, “Is it true you two used to date?”

Jinyoung’s jaw dropped a little and he made the effort of reaching over and flicking at Jackson’s forehead. “Are you out of your mind?! No we did _not_ , you pervert. Just because you think about fucking everything with a heartbeat, doesn’t mean I’m the same!”

“Who said anything about fucking? I asked if you two used to _date_ , you sadistic nun.” Jackson rubbed at his forehead, pouting like a child. “Besides, I’m not the one thinking about sex all of the time. Speaking of which, how did your little talk with the doctor go?”

The younger sighed, leaning back in his seat. “It’s complicated. Apparently BamBam spread some rumors and I was stupid enough to believe them, so…” he shrugged, “I suppose I owe Jaebum an apology.”

Jackson pursed his lips and nodded, “You know, he’s never said a bad word about you – Jaebum, I mean. You seem to hate him for some reason, but he definitely doesn’t hate you.” He cleared his throat, “Well—he might hate you a little bit now. When are you going to talk to him?”

“I don’t know,” Jinyoung sighed, “The doctor told me to wait – calm down a little first. Besides, Youngjae really is visiting after lunch so I don’t really feel like seeing Jaebum right now anyway. I’ll talk to him after I’ve had a chance to talk to Youngjae about all this. He always knows what to say to make me see things more clearly.”

The conversation went on for a little while; Mark zoned out for most of it. When he snapped out of it, he pulled his phone from his pocket and started playing some random game, distracting him from the fuzzy, lightheaded feeling.

He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there, but by the time Jackson pulled Mark’s phone out of his hands, most of the people in the refectory had gone to sessions, the lounge or their rooms. The brunet got his phone back and was met with a new contact already set up, selfie and all included. Jackson’s goofy smile was staring back at him, along with the name “Jackson Oppa” written at the top of the page.

Mark blinked and smiled sheepishly, shaking his head at Jackson who by that time was snickering and gradually sliding into a fit of obnoxious cackles.

 

* * *

The brunet met Youngjae that afternoon, although very briefly. He later heard that he and Jinyoung had had a serious talk about the whole Jaebum situation. It wasn’t like Mark was still scared of Jaebum, not after whatever reassuring stories Jackson had told him about the boy. Even Yugyeom had to admit that Jaebum wasn’t really as bad as whatever he’d told Mark on his first day. After all, Jaebum was a patient just like them. If he wasn’t given the chance to work on his issues, then of course nobody would ever trust him. They had to let the boy show them at least.

Jackson had dragged Mark into his room, earning a few swats to the back of his head by both Jinyoung and Yugyeom. He reassured them he wasn’t going to molest Mark – yet. The older boy had some trouble staying calm about being in Jackson’s room – on Jackson’s _bed_ – but after an hour he’d actually found himself relaxing against Jackson’s shoulder as they watched some stupid videos on the latter’s phone.

Mark was actually nodding off on Jackson’s shoulder, his eyes drooping before Jackson caught his attention.

“Is that your natural hair color?” Jackson’s random question made Mark wake up completely, frowning a little before he shook his head.

“Mhmm,” the younger nodded, “I thought so.” He pursed his lips before raising his hand, waiting until he saw no sign of Mark disapproving and reached out to brush his fingers through the soft strands of hair, making Mark’s eyes droop a little because holy mother of  _fuck_. That kind of physical contact felt so good he probably could’ve just creamed his pants right then and there. Seeing Jackson was one thing, but feeling him was an entirely different concept. Mark couldn’t even begin to wonder what it’d be like to really _feel_ the other.

“You should think about dying your hair red. I think it’d suit you really nicely.” Jackson said nonchalantly, shrugging as he pulled his hand back and rested it next to him on the bed. Mark merely nodded, smiling a little as he looked anywhere but right at the other. Red was pretty extreme, but it wasn’t a bad idea per se.

The rest of the day was spent in a daze. Jackson showed Mark a portable DVD player which he was so proud to have. Honestly, in this day and age who still owned a portable DVD player? Then again, they weren’t allowed personal laptops, so it was kind of the next best thing if you didn’t want to get stuck watching documentaries in the lounge with everyone else.

They watched a movie about fast cars, money and pretty girls – not really something Mark would typically go for, but at least it lasted them until dinner. Both boys were being teased by the time they entered the refectory together, Jinyoung already chanting about them being the institute’s new couple. This did nothing to reduce Mark’s bright red cheeks to a normal skin color. Luckily, Jackson seemed to notice and he reflexively just threw an arm around Mark, scoffing at Jinyoung.

“Well at least you won’t go stealing my girlfriend then, will you Park Jinyoung? Ariel is mine and so you shan’t have her.” And with that he stuck out his tongue and made everyone and their mothers roll their eyes. _Idiot_.

* * *

If there was one thing that could be said about Jackson Wang, it was that he had no trouble sleeping. Anytime. Anywhere. And yet he found himself tossing and turning that night. In the years he’d spent at the hospital, he’d seen many people come and go. None of them had managed to frustrate him as much as Mark Tuan had in no less than three days.

First of all, how _dare_ he come in looking all cute and helpless, not to mention the fact that whenever he was anywhere around Jackson, the boy turned the prettiest shade of pink Jackson had ever seen. Really, though, Jackson did not think of pink as being a very masculine color. He didn’t like pink; not like that. But he definitely appreciated it whenever it dusted across the other boy’s cheeks. _God damn_.

Images of the older boy worrying his bottom lip flashed through Jackson’s mind, making a shiver run down the boy’s spine. Said boy rolled onto his back, sighing as he stared up at his ceiling. Jackson had hooked up before; of course he had. As mentioned before, he’d seen a lot of people come and go at the institute and he’d dated few of them as well. Not in the amount BamBam had, but still. He’d gotten his fair share of heated nights; kissing them hard to muffle their moans and whimpers. Still, Jackson had never been _infatuated_. It made him worry about feeling this – _tingly_ towards Mark. Why him, all of a sudden? Why was he so different?

Jackson frowned, reaching up to rub at his face before he lifted up his covers and sighed at his tented boxer shorts.

“You should be ashamed of yourself.” He was talking more to his cock than to himself, honestly, but still. Jackson partly blamed it on the fact that he hadn’t gotten off in more than a few weeks, which was weird, because Jackson hadn’t intentionally held it off. It was more because he had been too damn lazy to have a decent wank before he passed out. Too lazy to get off. Things were really going downhill for Jackson Wang.

He reached down and slid his fingers beneath the waistband of his shorts. His fingers immediately curled around his semi before he tugged on it lazily, feeling his foreskin roll over the head of his cock before he pulled it back and teased at the sensitive spot right beneath it. Jackson breathed out slowly and let his eyes slip closed. He rolled his shoulders, ridding them from any tension before he relaxed against the pillow.

The boy brought his hand back up to his face and spat – not very charmingly, but who was watching, anyway – into his palm, bringing his hand back down to smoothly slide over the sensitive skin. It didn’t take long until his cock was standing proudly and by then Jackson’s thoughts had been completely taken over by probably the softest brown hair, beautiful hazel eyes and lips that would look exquisite when wrapped around his length.

His breathing sped up, making his chest heave and sweat trickle down his temple. Jackson didn’t do this all that often, since the institute wasn't exactly known for it's privacy, but when he did he usually took his sweet, _sweet_ time. Completely aware of the fact that Mark could probably hear every sound he’d make, he decided to keep the volume to a minimum. He wasn’t ready to admit to himself that he had certain feelings towards the boy, let alone let said boy hear him.

His thumb teased the tip of his cock before he sped up his pace, letting his eyes close once more. He frowned slightly as with every tug at his length, the images in his head were getting raunchier. He’d never heard the boy’s voice, let alone any other sound the older boy would make, but Jackson could only imagine how sinfully beautiful it would sound. In his head, Mark was slurping around his cock, moaning as his eyes teared up because Jackson was fucking his throat just a little too roughly; lewd, wet noises echoing through his mind as he practically felt his cock slide into the back of the Mark's throat. He imagined his hands tangled in Mark’s hair as he snapped his hips, watching his dick disappear between swollen, abused lips that looked slippery with spit and god knows what else.

Jackson panted, containing a low groan that threatened to spill from his lips and snapped his hips up into the tightness of his fist, feeling his balls tighten merely seconds before he released into his hand. The Mark in Jackson’s head swallowed around his cock and lazily pulled back, licking at a drop of cum that had spilled over his lips, making Jackson’s cock twitch as he relaxed against his pillow.

He smiled, reaching over to grab a tissue and clean himself up. He tossed the sticky mess into the general direction of the bucket he used as a trash can in his room and missed miserably. He watched the tissue land next to his desk, but hummed before he draped an arm over his eyes and let sleep take him.

Jackson wasn’t really the most romantic person in the world. He considered himself to be much of a manly man. Act before thinking. And when thinking, think with your dick. But even though Jackson was more about actions rather than sweet talk, he wouldn’t mind using his yet to discover sweetness on Mark. Jackson knew a lot about people. Watching Mark for the past days was more than enough to know that there were dark things lying in Mark’s mind; keeping him small and fragile — always on the edge of falling to pieces. Jackson wasn’t sure what just yet, but he was dying to find out. Cheezy, so very cheezy, but some people needed to be kept safe; deserved it.

And for once, Jackson didn’t mind.

  
  



	4. Intermission: Author's note - please read.

If you started reading Unhinged after March 14, 2017, feel free to ignore this note and continue reading the story.  
I hope you're having a great time and are enjoying my attempt at fanfiction so far! Stay amazing! 

* * *

For those who have been reading Unhinged since 2015/16 and have been patiently waiting for me to maybe,  
someday return, I have great news for you, but also a few warnings.

I have decided to continue writing Unhinged, since it's my baby and I love it too much to let it sit here unfinished. I have gotten messages and comments from you guys, asking me to continue the story, and it warms my heart that you actually like the story enough to care. I'd like to thank everyone for taking their time and reading, waiting and commenting, since it's what motivated me to continue. I'm sorry for making you wait as long as I did, but I hope the following chapters will make up for my absence. 

As for those warnings I was talking about, I'd like you to know that I've re-written parts of the story. There were some general errors in the vocab and grammar department that I was going to correct anyway, but I found some inconsistencies within the story line. Because of these changes, I'd like to advise you re-read the entire story. I know it's a bit stupid, since some of you only recently subscribed and are maybe not too keen on re-reading the entire thing, but I can promise you I've improved it a little. 

This being said, I'd like to wish you all lots of fun reading the story. I still cannot promise you regular updates, since I write whenever I have the muse for it, and university keeps me from writing when I would like to most. Still, I hope you'll stand by me and this story, since I really do hope you guys will enjoy what's coming up next.

Hope you're all doing well.

Much love,

Meggi.


	5. Part four

A/N: For those who started reading the story BEFORE March 14, 2017, please read "Intermission: Author's Note". There's some things you need to know about the story before proceeding. I hope you will all forgive my absence. It's been a long year, but I won't give up on my baby. Enjoy, everybody! Get ready for some serious business!

6.358 WORDS 

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> "Schizophrenia is a mental disorder that is characterized by hallucinations (auditory, visual, olfactory, or tactile) and delusions. It is usually treated with a combination of antipsychotic medications and psychotherapy. This disorder is better understood as a mental illness that requires ongoing — often lifetime — treatment. Demystification of the illness, along with recent insights from neuroscience and neuropsychology, gives new hope for finding more effective treatments for an illness that previously carried a grave prognosis. Schizophrenia is characterized by a broad range of unusual behaviors that cause profound disruption in the lives of people suffering from the condition, as well as in the lives of the people around them. This condition can strike anyone without regard to gender, race, social class or culture and is typically first diagnosed in a person’s 20s." – John M. Grohol, Psy.D.

* * *

Talking to Jaebum was harder than Jinyoung ever anticipated. Mostly because the latter hadn’t thought a conversation like this one would ever be necessary. Jinyoung had been away from home for quite some time; longer than he’d like to admit to some he deemed worthy to impress. Jinyoung’s sense of honour had always been high enough to want to prove himself. No matter how low he’d gotten in the past few years, his sense of honour kept him somewhat sane. He trusted his instincts, went with his gut. It’s what worked best for him. For twenty-one years his gut feeling had never failed him. He took pride in the so called fact that he could read people like no other. He’d felt proud when Mark arrived, knowing he still had it in him to anticipate what people needed – he helped the older boy find his way around the institute without too much drama and Jinyoung had quickly grown fond of the boy.

Drama had found its way to Jinyoung’s life anyway and now it was kicking him so hard he could barely breathe. It wasn’t as if someone like Jaebum intimidated or even scared him. It was just that Jinyoung had been so convinced of his own vision of the other’s past that he hadn’t even felt bad for acting harshly towards the recovered alcoholic. Jaebum was the type to have more to hide than one would think, so Jinyoung was hardly to blame for believing a well thought-through rumour, especially since said rumour was spread by someone who was known to make people believe whatever the hell he wanted to. How Jaebum still tolerated the lying brat, Jinyoung would never understand.

A few things were certain, however. He would never again trust anything that came out of Kunpimook Bhuwakul’s mouth and he’d _definitely_ never believe anything about anyone until he was 100 percent sure it was true. People are hard to read, after all, because Jaebum wasn’t what Jinyoung had thought. Jaebum was the victim in this situation, a position Jinyoung would have never thought him to be in. This time it wasn’t some teenage train wreck of a girl who had caused all of the rumours to re-surface throughout the institute, it was Jinyoung. The pride that lay deep in Jinyoung’s chest was slowly driving him insane with the knowledge that somehow, he had to fix what he had heavily damaged.

That’s how he found himself standing in front of Jaebum’s door at nine in the morning. Jinyoung hadn’t seen the older boy around during breakfast so he assumed the older boy must’ve either eaten quickly or not at all – which was against the rules, mind you. Jinyoung closed his eyes and willed the nauseating feeling to fade, knowing very well how to control his breathing. The institute came with more than just pills. It had taken the boy years to even start a conversation without feeling the need to vomit and the doctors had done an amazing job in teaching him techniques to get that exact feeling to fade.

Coming clean to someone like Jaebum and apologizing for what he thought was rightful, however, was proving to be much different and harder than any conversation Jinyoung had taken part in so far. In his eyes, this was taking several steps back. Degrading may have been a bit of a big word to use, but it definitely was close to Jinyoung’s emotions at the time. Focusing on his heartbeat, he stared at his shoelaces and let his gaze trace along the white strings several times, looking up once he felt he was never going to be more ready for this than he was at that very moment.

He knocked thrice on the door and found himself hoping he’d knocked hard enough. The thought alone of having to repeat the action was mortifying. Fortunately – or unfortunately, because Jinyoung’s chances of having a seizure on the spot suddenly increased at the sight of the boy in front of him – Jaebum opened the door, revealing much more than Jinyoung was prepared to see. Jaebum was standing there, hair all dishevelled and dressed in boxer shorts.

Jinyoung doesn’t stare. Ever. It’s not in his nature. He doesn’t ever feel the need to and he’s never once thought he had the right to do so.

Jinyoung was staring.

Jaebum was apparently the type of person to take great care of his body. For someone who’s rumoured to have an alcohol-drenched background, Jaebum had the most radiant looking skin he’d ever seen; and Jinyoung was seeing a _lot_ of it. From his deliciously broad shoulders, down the defined chest and abdomen and into the natural V-lines that disappeared down a pair of dark blue Simpsons-themed boxer shorts, Jaebum was without a doubt the hottest thing since boiling water.

“What?”

Jinyoung’s head snapped up. For once, he hadn’t been suffering from his ticks. He hadn’t been mumbling, counting or even blinking. He’d definitely been staring, though. How long had he been staring? _Where_ had he been staring? He gulped and shook his head slightly, feeling his stomach churn once more.

“I—“ He started, suddenly unaware of the fact that he was standing in front of and staring at the person he was supposed to be apologizing to. “Hey.” He smiled sheepishly, seemingly not to the older boy’s amusement.

“I was sleeping. What do you want?” Jaebum’s voice was scruffy and Jinyoung could swear he felt the tips of his ears burning. Cue the realization what he was doing.

“Ah—I wanted to talk. About yesterday.” Jinyoung nodded twice and felt his upper lip twitch as he tried to suppress his ticks as much as he was focusing on the semi-dialogue he was supposed to be taking part in. There came no answer, however, and Jinyoung gulped.

“Look, I know I was a dick yesterday, okay? I just want to talk. I’m not going to bust your balls if you don’t say much – just hear me out.” He frowned, becoming more and more frustrated about the fact that he was in the middle of the hallway where everyone could hear him. As if this wasn’t already one of the hardest things he had to do in ages; a crowd was the last thing he needed.

He felt his stomach drop when Jaebum turned around and Jinyoung feared that he’d slam the door in his face. Instead, he was met with a preview of the older boy’s room as Jaebum walked further and left the door open, an invitation for Jinyoung to enter as he pleased. Hesitantly, Jinyoung entered the room and quietly closed the door behind him.

Jaebum’s room smelled like sex. There was no way or euphemism that would save Jaebum or anyone from the ugly truth. Granted, the smell wasn’t bad. It was just—sex. Or at least like someone had been keeping himself particularly busy. Jinyoung tried not to stare at the trashcan – that was filled mostly with Kleenex and empty boxes of said tissues – and gulped.

“Busy night, huh?” It slipped out before he even knew what he was saying. All these years, Jinyoung had disrespected the older boy as if he belonged in the dumpster, all because of the lies he’d been fed by the bulimic residing a few doors over in the other hallway.

Jinyoung watched Jaebum’s facial expressions harden as he sat back against the wall on his bed. He looked like he may just choke Jinyoung, if not for the fact that the younger was standing a few feet too far away from him to do so.

“I’m sorry,” Jinyoung brought up his hands and shook his head, a clearly pained expression on his face that made Jaebum frown, clearly not used to Jinyoung’s take-backsies.

“I’m so sorry.” Jinyoung took a few steps towards the bed and sighed, “I know I have no right to treat you like this. I truly am sorry. Just—you have to understand that this is as weird for me as it is for you. I’ve always believed what people said about you – nobody ever told me any different. I never respected you when I should’ve… I should’ve–”

“I don’t need your pity.”

The comeback was short, harsh and cut deep, punching the air out of Jinyoung’s lungs. Jinyoung pressed his lips into a tight line and straightened his back, trying to seem like the other’s words hadn’t gotten to him at all.

“It’s called an apology. Who said anything about pity? You think I’m all soft for you now that I finally know the truth? You think I’m going get all sappy on you now I know you’re not actually the asshole you pretend to be? You think you’re real tough shit, huh? Going along with all the rumours when all there’s really wrong with you –“ Jinyoung squeezed his eyes shut, his voice going up into a frustrated screech as he shook his head, “You just jack it too much and you’ve got resting bitch face. That’s all. That’s literally all there is to you.”

Jinyoung was met with a raised eyebrow and an otherwise blank expression.

“What’s your point?”

The younger was becoming more and more frustrated by Jaebum’s indifference and reached up to rub at his face, letting his tense shoulders fall for a moment.

“Look, I get it, okay? You went through some shit and you know that people like to insinuate things. You know that people spread rumours about you but being okay with it isn’t going to help you at all—“

There was a pause where neither boy spoke. Jinyoung just watched Jaebum’s features soften and saw that as an opportunity to take a seat next to the raved haired cartoon enthusiast. Jinyoung didn’t know how he’d stumbled from an apology into an effort to help the older boy, but if this was what they were headed for, then so be it.

“What did the doctor tell you?” Jaebum’s voice was soft and laced with genuine interest. Jinyoung had to take a moment to get used to the sudden shift in the atmosphere and looked down at his hands as he fiddled with the drawstrings of his sweatpants.

“He told me about the case and the girl… About the fact that you were innocent—and how everyone’s basically been treating you like a rapist when in reality you’ve done nothing to be ashamed of.”

A soft, cynical chuckle fell from Jaebum’s lips and Jinyoung’s head snapped up, eyebrows raised at the sound.

“Nothing to be ashamed of?” He nodded towards the trashcan, “You think I’m not ashamed of that? I disgust myself.”

The look in Jaebum’s eyes was heart-breaking. In the years Jinyoung had lived at the institute, he had never seen Jaebum like this, not once. Jinyoung raised his hand, going to reach out for Jaebum’s arm, but decided it was too soon. He wanted to comfort Jaebum, not scare the living hell out of him.

He braced himself for both the question he was about to ask and the answer he would get.

“So—what’s the deal, then? Why are you letting Bambam spread shit about you? Is it because you’re fucking him, or—“

“What? No.” Jaebum frowned. “I don’t want to be with anyone, not like that. I—“ he pressed his lips into a fine line, “Something happened in the past. That’s why I’m here. Not because of the trial. Not because of the one girl. There’s just something I need to work on. Bambam and I make out sometimes, but it doesn’t really mean anything. Trust me, he knows this. We’ve never gone beyond kissing.”

Jinyoung shook his head in disapproval, not because Jaebum wasn’t seeing Bambam – thank God – but because of the fact that Jaebum was still willingly hanging out with the brat.

“I can’t believe you tolerate him. He basically told a sick lie about you and made everyone believe you were a bad person –he’s telling everyone you guys are actually doing it, by the way.”

A deep frown slipped back onto Jaebum’s features and after having seen the soft expressions he could carry, Jinyoung wanted to reach out and smoothen out the frown with his fingers. Of course he’d rather die on the spot than actually carry out that thought.

“He’s just troubled. With Yugyeom here, I don’t think he’ll ever get better. Neither of them, actually. If they continue being this hostile towards each other, they’ll never stop getting the urge of being so destructive towards themselves.” He sighed, reaching up to comb the untamed strands of raven back with his fingers.

Jinyoung found himself nodding, knowing there was truth in Jaebum’s words. He leaned back against the wall and stared out in front of him, his gaze falling back onto the trashcan.

“I know it’s really none of my business, but—“

Jaebum had caught onto Jinyoung’s question long before he’d even pronounced it, mortification downing on the older boy once more.

“I’ll have you know that usually when someone comes into my room - which is a rare occasion in itself - _that_ usually isn’t there.” He sighed, dropping his hands back in his lap. “I’ve not been getting any better. With a pyromaniac, you can take away the matches, but with this…” He looked down and snorted cynically, “Maybe I should just get neutered.”

The younger merely shrugged, knowing he’d never really understand what fuelled Jaebum’s problems. “It’s not something you have to hide from—from us. We’re all the same. We all have problems. You think I like brushing my teeth three times at night? It’s embarrassing, but I know that someday it might get better and that gets me through every day in this place.”

For the first time in his life, Jinyoung witnessed Jaebum smile genuinely, and he didn’t know if it broke his heart or filled it with something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“You know, I’ve always been jealous because of your progress. You were so bad when you came here and I felt sorry for you, but I watched you. I watched you get better. You started getting much more positive and that’s something I fear I’ll never have. I wish I could be a little more like you. Maybe then I’d get better. Maybe then I wouldn’t have to feel embarrassed about having to hide myself in my room several times a day.” He shrugged, watching Jinyoung with a pained, sad smile.

Jinyoung paused, his heart sinking at the boy’s words. All this time, there had been someone soft and vulnerable behind the thick mask of indifference, and it shattered a part of Jinyoung’s confidence to know he had been too blind to notice.

“Have you told anyone else about how hard these things still are for you? The doctors, your parents maybe?”

The raven haired boy shook his head, closing his eyes as he let his head fall back against the wall with a soft thud. “I’ve been here for so many years, Jinyoung, I’m sure that by now they just assume I’ve given up. I suppose I have, in a way.”

“No.”

Jaebum flinched and stared back at the younger, his eyes wide with shock.

“How’s that ever going to do you or anyone any good?” Jinyoung’s voice was trembling, his eyes matching the other’s wide ones as he locked his gaze with the older boy. “How’s that ever going to get you out of here? Don’t you want a normal life? To be able to pick up the pieces and start anew; isn’t that what we’re all here for? If we were all to just give up, what would be the purpose of being here?”

The eldest swallowed, unable to break the intense stare they were sharing.

“I— I suppose I just never considered myself worthy of a normal life,” the boy muttered, his voice hoarse with emotion.

Jinyoung smiled bitterly, breaking eye contact as he gazed down at the way his hands were folded in his lap.

“I get that,” the younger said, “I really do – but you’re forgetting that you’re not in this alone. If you let others help, if you let them in – I promise it’ll get better.” He looked back up and took a deep breath, his features softening, “I know it sounds like so much of an overused slogan, but you can choose to get better. You can choose to be happy, to change and be proud of yourself. You just have to let people help you. You’ve come this far, why not see it through? Nobody was ever cured by keeping quiet, you know? A cry for help is all it takes to help you get on your way to getting better.”

The raven headed boy blinked slowly, his eyes still wide open and focused on the younger’s face as his breathing slowed a little.

“I don’t know how—,” he started. He felt his breath hitch as Jinyoung smiled at him warmly.

“But I do.” The younger of the two stated. “I do, you know I do. Let me help you. I’m here.”

Jaebum pressed his lips into a tight line and closed his eyes as he let his head hang a little, the pitch black strands falling shaggily over his forehead. He took a few moments to process Jinyoung’s words, making the younger shift comfortably on the bed. Jinyoung knew very well how important it was to give the oldest the time and space he needed. Minutes went by before Jaebum slowly sat back against the wall, facing the younger.

“Alright, if you think it’ll do any good, then you’re free to try. It’s not going to be easy, though,” the boy muttered, making the younger chuckle softly.

“I know it’s not, but that’s okay. It’s never easy. You can do this, though. We can do this.”

Jaebum raised an eyebrow and grinned, which cause Jinyoung’s stomach to twist a little.

“ _We_ , huh?”

Jinyoung felt his ears at the teasing tone in Jaebum’s voice, and reached out to playfully punch the boy in the bicep. “Don’t be a dick! I’m trying to help here!”

Smooth, deep laughter fell from Jaebum’s lips as his eyes disappeared into crescents, his hand coming up to rub at the spot that just got beaten by the younger. “I know, I’m sorry. Just trying to relieve the tension.”

The younger huffed and quickly pulled his legs back up, hugging them against his chest.

“So, are we okay?”

Jaebum raised his eyebrows at the question and paused for a moment, taking in the way Jinyoung was staring at him with remorse laced through his gaze and his teeth tugging at his lower lip. It made a very distinct feeling coil low in his abdomen, which Jaebum fought to ignore as he nodded.

“We’re good, don’t worry.”

He shifted on the bed, feeling his body temperature rise and his eyesight blurring a little. Jaebum gulped and shivered in his spot against the cold wall. It didn’t escape Jinyoung’s attention either. Jaebum watched his expression shift from relief to worry as Jinyoung’s brows knitted towards one another, a frown forming on the porcelain surface of his face.

“Jaebum? What’s wrong?”

Jaebum shook his head, reached over to grab a pillow and soundlessly placed it in his lap. “I’m fine, I’ll be fine. I’m sorry.”

His voice was hardly louder than a whisper as he uttered the words, and it downed on Jinyoung what was happening. Now he knew more details about Jaebum’s condition, he knew not to take the current situation too personally. Still, his cheeks got tinted with a deep pink as he averted his gaze.

“Do you need a minute? I can step outside if—“

“No, I’m fine. I’ll deal with it later.” Jaebum reached up and sighed as he scratched the back of his head in frustration. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

Jaebum then explained to Jinyoung what had happened on Mark’s first night at the institute. He skipped the details that could otherwise ruin part of Mark’s privacy and fast-forwarded to the part where he sort of lost it at the sight of the scarcely clad boy that he’d encountered after the latter had finished showering.

“I just kind of lost control. I’m not sure why I approached him, I guess I just had a particularly off day. Bambam had been riling me up and—I’d never do anything to hurt Mark, I hope he realises that.” Jaebum looked like he was in pain. Whether it was because of what he’d done or because of the physical condition he was in at that moment, Jinyoung could only guess, but Jaebum was definitely feeling uncomfortable.

“I wanted to talk to him about it, apologize and maybe explain myself, but—“ He let out a soft huff, “Every time I wanted to do so, Jackson was kind of hogging him, so—“

Jinyoung snorted at this and rolled his eyes, “Yeah, Jackson’s claimed him alright.” The younger sighed softly and shrugged, “Honestly, I’m not sure where Mark stands in all of this. He’s not spoken a word since he arrived here –I doubt he will anytime soon – but if you really want to explain yourself, then I think he’d be okay with it. It might give him some reassurance to relax around others in the institute.”

Jaebum nodded, his features still tense as his hands gripped on the pillow a little harder.

“How’s he doing?”

The younger blinked, recalling texting Mark earlier that same day. He never received an answer, and hadn’t seen him at breakfast, but he’d figured Jackson would make sure the elder ate at the appropriate time.

“He’s doing okay, I think. I didn’t see him at breakfast, so I suppose he’s hanging out with Jackson.”

This caused Jaebum’s frown to deepen. “No, I don’t think so. Jackson usually texts me when he wakes up, but I haven’t heard from him all morning.”

A sense of panic struck the younger before he willed himself to calm down.

“Maybe we should go check on them. We—,“ Jinyoung eyed the state Jaebum was in and decided against his initial suggestion. “How about I go check their rooms and see if Yugyeom’s heard anything from them. If I find them, I’ll let you know. If not, I’ll come and pick you up so maybe we can go and ask one of the supervisors. You—don’t be too hard on yourself, alright?”

Jaebum nodded, to which Jinyoung moved to get off the bed. Jaebum reached out and placed a hand on the inside of the younger’s elbow, a frown still laced through his features.

“Hey, it’s probably nothing, don’t worry so much.”

Jinyoung’s features softened, a soft sigh escaping his lungs. “I know, it’s just – I don’t want to take any chances. Mark is—Things are all just so new and frightening to him. We’ve all been there…” Jinyoung gulped, “I feel very protective over him.”

The raven haired boy softly squeezed Jinyoung’s arm and let go, nodding towards the door, “Go, let me know what’s up though, all right?”

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Jinyoung’s heart was pounding in his head as he walked towards the supervisor’s office, Yugyeom and Jaebum only a few steps behind him. He hadn’t found Jackson or Mark anywhere in the building, but what he had found, terrified him. In Mark’s room, people were fixing a busted window. There was glass everywhere, but Mark was nowhere to be found. Jinyoung had checked Yugyeom’s room, but only managed to inform Yugyeom that Mark was missing,since the pink haired boy hadn't seen or heard from Mark either.

There was still an icy vibe between Jaebum and Yugyeom as they walked behind the other boy. Jinyoung supposed it was mostly to blame to the fact that Jaebum still tolerated BamBam, something the pink haired boy wouldn’t consider any time soon. As the three boys walked in silence, Jinyoung tried to relax when controlling his ticks was becoming more and more of an issue. Minutes ticked by and the tension in his chest increased.

Walking into the supervisor’s office was like greeting their own deaths. Apparently, they had been expecting the boys. After giving Jaebum a short lecture about missing breakfast, the three boys were taken outside of the office and asked to sit down. By that time, Jinyoung was positively shaking with anxiety. The boys were told Mark had been taken to the medical building a few hours prior. As the supervisor went on to explain what happened, Jinyoung rushed out of his seat and was out the door, running until his lungs were burning, his eyes had rimmed with tears and he was bursting through the doors of the medical building.

His eyes scanned the rooms he passed until finally he stopped in his tracks, staring through the glass window that separated him from the hospital bed that held a sleeping Mark. Jinyoung gulped, a tear running down his cheek. He sniffled before he took a deep breath and opened the door that lead into the room. It was only then that Jinyoung noticed Jackson was sitting in a chair next to the sleeping brunet, resting his arms beside the latter, his soft snoring filling the room as he seemed to be fast asleep as well.

Jinyoung halted next to the hospital bed and looked at the scene in front of him. There was a thin sheen of sweat on Mark’s forehead, his cheeks flushed a soft pink that signalled Mark was fighting a fever. Mark’s hands were covered in bandages that showed blood seeping through in small patches. An IV drip was hanging from a pole next to the hospital bed, the connecting tube nested firmly into Mark’s forearm. Jinyoung’s breath hitched for a moment as he tried to comprehend what could have possibly happened, his mind both going a million miles an hour and completely blank at the same time.

Beside the bed, Jackson stirred in his seat and looked up, opening his eyes. He looked like he’d been through hell and back again. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was pale as a sheet. His T-shirt had tiny holes in several places and there were smears of blood scattered across the white fabric. Noticing Jinyoung standing at the foot of the hospital bed, Jackson’s features softened a little, but soon his attention was entirely focused to the boy lying beside him.

Jinyoung licked his lips, trembling, “What happened?”

* * *

< Jackson’s POV >

Jackson grew up in a place he would never refer to as home. He had learned to take care of himself, both inside the house and out in the streets, where he hung out more often than not. He surrounded himself by kids who were much older and shared the same kind of background; it was considered safer than undergo the beating that was waiting for him at home.

Once his mother had left his stepfather and decided Jackson was no longer to be part of her life, it was clear that things were not looking up for the boy. In less than an hour, the boy had packed his stuff and had gone to one of the only friends he still had who wasn’t living on the streets. He crashed on their couch for six months altogether, during which Jackson was introduced to ways to numb just about any kind of pain. The young boy’s interests quickly shifted from heroines to heroin. It slowly consumed him, ate at him, and made him think irrationally. The day Jackson’s friend kicked him out of his apartment because Jackson had sold some of the boy’s belongings to pay for a fix, was the day Jackson gave in and almost ended it all. If it hadn’t been for the cops noticing the boy collapsing in the middle of the sidewalk, he never would have lived to see another sunrise.

The first few years in the institute were tough on the boy. He was the youngest kid in a very large group of patients that were all looking for someone to take their frustrations out on, and it wasn’t until he got beaten up so bad he had to be taken to the medical building of the institute, that the supervisors something was still going terribly wrong. The boy was used to being a punching bag, his stepfather never giving a shit how and if the boy survived after he’d continuously hit, kicked and put his cigarettes out on the boy. According to the drunkard, Jackson was one of the sole reasons Jackson’s mother cheated and left him in the first place.

After a few other hiccups, like trying to set fire to the curtains in his room and “accidentally” gripping another patient by the throat and slamming him against the wall for some snide comment the other had made, Jackson slowly started getting better. The hardest part was getting clean, but seeing as he got the best possible guidance at the institute, even that slowly started getting better.

The only thing that he still needed to work on was that his bipolar episodes made him go from zero to one hundred in an instant. One moment he could be smiling like any normal kid, and the next he would be spitting nasty comments at the people he liked most. He would feel the need to destroy, like his parents had destroyed him. He wanted to justify all the bad shit that had happened to him.

It didn’t help that by the age of seventeen, Jackson learned more about his attraction towards guys. As if he didn’t already have enough on his plate. His bipolar episodes got worse that year. The doctors explained that the peak in hormones definitely were not helping the boy put everything into perspective. When that phase passed, Jackson calmed down a lot, but he was still struggling.

Jackson found out that once he took peace with who and what he was, it was easier for him to engage in social interactions. He learned about how to be assertive, learned to appreciate himself for who he was and got along with the others much easier. Especially the few people at the institute he had “dated” for a while helped him become a more positive person. He learned to take his negative past and turn it into a reason to do something with his life.

Still, he was cautious around people because he knew what he was like. Even though he’d gotten better, he knew he was bound to want to hurt or destroy something precious eventually. It had always been like that, and Jackson figured he was simply going to have to deal with it for the rest of his life. That’s why he never let his love interests too close, he never wanted to risk anything. His walls would just have to stay upright for the time being.

Then came Mark _fucking_ Tuan. Mark Tuan was everything that was so good and yet so bad for Jackson. It quickly became clear to Jackson that he was developing a crush at a rather impressive rate. Usually, when Jackson became interested in someone, he would panic and think of ways to make sure he didn’t go overboard. With Mark, however, going overboard wasn’t even on Jackson’s mind. Sure, he was a little surprised at how relaxed he was around the boy, but the need to protect and make everything okay for the brunet was far stronger than the need to keep his walls in check. Somehow Mark Tuan was silently poking at them as if instead of bricks, they were made of marshmallow fluff.

When Jackson fell asleep after spending the day with Mark, he was aiming for a peaceful night filled with what would hopefully be wet dreams about said brunet.

Jackson’s night did not turn out to be peaceful.

When a bone chilling scream woke him up at three o’clock in the morning, Jackson shot upright in his bed. For a second, he thought he’d just woke up from a nightmare. He wasn’t conscious enough to realise that what he just heard would completely overthrow his plans of waking up relaxed and ruin his chances at facing a new day with the most positivity he could muster.

When he heard a second scream and something that sounded an awful lot like the breaking of glass, Jackson realised two things: he most definitely did _not_ just wake up from a nightmare, and there was something going terribly wrong in the room beside his. If that didn’t catapult him out of room and into the hallway, then the realisation that the room next to him was Mark’s room, definitely did the job.

He burst through Mark’s bedroom door and felt the air being punched from his lungs as he saw the boy he was slowly becoming infatuated with sitting on top of his desk, clawing at the glass window behind it. The brunet was crying his eyes out, seemingly unaware that pushing and pulling at the broken glass of the window was slowly tearing at the skin on his hands.

Jackson stepped over the chair that lay in the midst of shards of glass, slowly approaching the older boy. “Mark? _Mark_ —”

Mark flinched, clutching his bleeding hands to his chest as his head snapped to Jackson’s direction. His face scrunched up in pain and frustration as he curled up into a ball and collapsed onto the desk. Jackson quickly moved to curl his arms around the older boy and lifted him up into his arms. The brunet clutched at Jackson’s shirt, hanging on for dear life as he sobbed into his shoulder. The younger could feel him shaking violently as he rushed the boy out of his room and through the halls of the institute, one of the supervisors on their night shift shooting him a look of mortification before he helped getting the boy to the medical building.

* * *

“The doctors said he went into a full anxiety attack. Apparently something went wrong and they were saying something about his schizophrenia making it worse. He didn’t know what he was doing until I got there.”

Jinyoung’s face scrunched up as if in pain, “Oh my god - Mark…” he sniffled once more and swallowed thickly. “W-Wat about the glass? What happened to the window?”

Jackson sighed as he eyed the wounds on Mark’s hands and raised a hand to comb through his own hair, making it stick up in every possibly direction before it slowly fell back into place. “Nobody’s absolutely certain about what happened, but the doctors are speculating that in a fit of panic and delusion, he used his chair to break the window and get some air. He never would’ve gotten through the window completely because of the bars in front of his window, but still. He busted that window and  when trying to tear at the glass, he hurt his hands too.”

After Jackson had told Jinyoung what had happened, the younger sniffled and rubbed at his tears-stained cheek, “Will he be okay?”

“He will be,” Jackson murmured, “The doctors already called his parents and everything. They wanted to come right over, but there’s nothing they can do here. Mark should be up and about by tomorrow, but for now he needs to get as much rest as possible. There’s no permanent damage done _physically_ , but he might not be feeling well for the next couple of days. There’s a good chance last night fucked him up pretty badly.”

Jackson’s voice sounded hoarse and heavy as he kept his gaze fixed on the sleeping boy next to him.

Behind Jinyoung, the door opened and Yugyeom and Jaebum stepped into the room, quickly gathering around the bed. Yugyeom curled his hands around Jinyoung’s arm and offered a small smile.

“The supervisors told us what happened,” the younger said, his voice low as he rested his cheek against the side of Jinyoung’s head, “He’ll be okay, hyung. They said he’ll be okay.”

Jinyoung nodded slowly and turned his gaze up to the ceiling, tears still swimming in his eyes. Jackson looked up at the others and swallowed thickly, “The doctors asked to bring some clothing and his pyjamas. Could you maybe—“

The others nodded quickly, Yugyeom speaking up as the other boys stood there silently, “We’ll take care of it. Anything else we can do?” Jackson shook his head, reaching out to lightly lay one of his hands on the sleeping boy’s forearm.

After a while, the other boys left to get Mark’s things, leaving Jackson alone in the room with Mark. Jackson rubbed at his face with his free hand, his heart still pounding against his ribcage as he reached up and pulled the blanket that covered the sleeping boy a little higher. He felt exhausted. Jackson had stayed up all night, not keeping his eyes off Mark until he was sleeping safe and sound, his wounds treated and his breathing regulated.

Now that everything had gone quiet once more, Jackson let his head rest back against the side of the bed, his eyes slipping closed. Just two minutes, he promised himself. Just two minutes.

“J-Jackson?”

* * *

A/N: Ah, remember me? Please don't kill me. I decided to continue the story, and I hope you liked the chapter. Please look forward to the next ;u; 


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